CCC217: Angels

“So graceful, the swans. And faithful to each other,” my companion remarked as we watched them at their evening ablutions.

“Psychopomps,” I said.

“What’s one of those when it’s at home?”

I laughed at her expression. “It’s the soul’s guide to the Land of the Dead.”

“To heaven?” she asked and crossed herself. “You’re saying they’re angels?”

“The Land of the Dead’s in the high northern lands, where the angels dance amongst the coloured lights.”

“The aurora?”

“The aurora,” I agreed.

“And that’s why we must never kill a swan?”

I nodded, linked our arms, and continued our walk. The sun was setting over the marshland, the old mills silhouetted. We’d come here to watch it.

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About crispina kemp

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26 Responses to CCC217: Angels

  1. What a deep and lovely story about these lovely misterious creatures.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Sadje's avatar Sadje says:

    This is a sweet story

    Liked by 1 person

  3. nopenotpam's avatar Nope, Not Pam says:

    What a wonderful tale, so mystical

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I did not know these long necked geese were psychopomps. Cool! I’m already mindful of them whilst kayaking around them and will be more so now.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Frank's avatar Frank says:

    If the swans lead, I would follow, so lovely indeed

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Dale's avatar Dale says:

    They are such beautiful creatures. Love that they are psychopomps. Makes so much sense, doesn’t it? And who would ever want to hurt them?

    Liked by 1 person

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