The Cranes Are Coming

Summary

The author recounts their childhood memories of living in a house with a garden, where they helped their father with various tasks and experienced the beauty of nature, particularly the annual migration of cranes.

Abstract

The author, who fondly refers to themselves as their father's "rabbit," describes growing up in a spacious home surrounded by nature, including a garden with fruit trees and pebble paths. They share the joy of seasonal activities like pruning trees and lighting fires in the fireplace, as well as the awe-inspiring experience of witnessing the migration of cranes each autumn. These moments, along with the annual return of swallows, are cherished as highlights of their life, symbolizing a happy and magical childhood deeply connected to the natural world.

Opinions

The author values the nickname "rabbit" given by their father, indicating a strong emotional bond.
There is a sense of nostalgia and warmth associated with the family home and its role in the author's life story.
The act of lighting a fireplace is described with reverence, suggesting it was a central and comforting aspect of family life.
The migration of cranes is portrayed as an enchanting natural event that the author eagerly anticipated each year.
The author's father is remembered as someone who appreciated and drew attention to the beauty of nature, particularly bird migrations.
The author expresses a desire to replicate the stone house environment in their future home, emphasizing the importance of these experiences in shaping their aspirations.

A story of a rabbit and cranes

I was, and I still am I think, my father’s rabbit. It’s just that today he doesn’t call me that anymore. But in my heart, I’m still his rabbit. That was the nickname he gave me when I was a kid. Too cute, wasn’t it?

I was lucky enough to live in a big house with millstone walls. The house overlooked a large garden with large expanses of grass and several pebble paths lined with fruit trees, mainly apple trees.

When it was time to prune the trees, I would help my father collect the twigs and then we would gather them into bundles before putting them to dry under the lean-to at the side of the house. These twigs allowed us to easily light the fire in our fireplace.

I liked to light the fire, see the flames rise up the chimney and then come down and burn the logs slowly until they gave birth to beautiful red-orange embers. I have lived so many highlights of my life in front of this open, warm and comforting fireplace.

I know this is not the first time I have mentioned this house, so much so that its walls contain all or almost all the history of my life. But I have so many stories to tell around it.

In Autumn, we were privileged to see dozens of cranes pass over the garden during their migration, offering us an extraordinary spectacle.

“Come see my rabbit, the cranes are coming!”

— Daddy

My father’s voice was reasoning in the house, inviting me to hurry to the garden gate to enjoy the few seconds it took for these great majestic birds to pass over our heads. I can still hear their cries that warmed my heart. It was as if they were saying hello to us. I loved seeing and hearing them.

We lived at the rhythm of bird migrations. In the same way, every year we looked forward to the arrival of the swallows, which found their cozy nests in my father’s workshop. Little chicks were born, and the cycle began again and again.

When I think back on those magical moments, I tell myself that I had the happiest childhood. And that I will do everything I can to have my future home made of stones and to see the birds flying in the sky.