Hola que chido me gusta gracias por la invitacion, pero tengo una duda...¿Cuantas palabras debe llevar el escrito?

This is a very fun initiative!

Hello @wrestlingdesires, thank you very much for inviting me again to this wonderful contest. I am going to be inspired by both photos to make a short story called:
"Matias, the grumpy lovebird."
Once upon a time there was a lovebird named Matías. Unlike his companions who lived up to his reputation for being meek and loving, this lovebird preferred to be alone and loved silence and tranquility.
When he wasn't there pecking he would settle down on some warm cardboard to curl up and contemplate the landscape.
He did this every day, except when the ducks arrived and crowed like roosters.
Every morning they appeared and mounted on the roof, there they flapped their wings and squawked loudly trying to imitate them.
Listening to them, Matías sulked and with a very serious face, closed his eyes and gathered his wings, trying to become small so as to go unnoticed and not argue with the ducks.
In reality he was injured and, when sleeping, he dreamed that some geese came to encourage him to wake up and fly with them.
Thus, although they seemed annoyed at first, the geese later made him happy because they took him away with them to fly through the skies.

Thanks so much for reading.
@ene22, @abrarhussain and @elaiza09, would you like to participate in this fun challenge?

Oh my friend.

Love this so. But so tired right now. Not much writing at all at the moment.

One step at a time here right now.

Sending hugs

Nothing is sadder for a writer than periods of absence.
There are no emotions, no stories, no ideas; and every minute goes by as in a long train of time.
An immense waterwheel that drips seconds after seconds in front of the blank paper and nothing comes.
But it happens, suddenly, that life gives us signs and these are always taken advantage of.
Like a sudden rain, a sudden wind or clouds that hide the sun in a rude way, on a summer day; and always, always, they are taken advantage of.
Today, we were visited by a very young, brown, slender pigeon, carrying between its legs a small branch of rosemary.
It slowly perched on a park bench where I am desperately trying to write.
Is this the sign that life gives?
Does it signal this, the emotion or the subject, to which I am indebted today?

Sadly, the muses do not attend, but:
Is the sign right there in front, in a young pigeon with a branch of rosemary, waiting to be discovered, understood, analyzed, and as a consequence, the story or incipient theme will emerge?
It is that, a pigeon augurs calm themes, of peace and joy; positive themes that fill life with sensations and elevated motivations, but, rosemary....

What does the Rosemary point out to us?
It hides a lot of symbolism behind it, namely: It speaks of Aphrodite, the goddess of love, and, therefore, the theme could be an intense love affair, the story of a lady who lost her man in the depths of the sea, when he went fishing.
The resurgence of mythical figures such as mermaids, or Orpheus and Eurydice with that impossible love sealed at the exit of Hades by oblivion?

It is that everything agrees, everything in me makes a strong impression!

The signals that I receive in this park from the muses, who now seem to be very awake, invite me to write about loves with emotional, scattered endings.
And so, as Orpheus lost Eurydice in an unconscious carelessness, by looking back, I have lost this emptiness.
I have to write a story that speaks of focusing on today and now; on lessons about never looking back, what has been learned, what no longer needs to be relived, what has already been absolved.

- Exactly, that's what I will do!

I will write about Aphrodite and love, about the power of time, about silence and prudence.
About guilt, which could destroy beautiful relationships; or about ego, which poses the most human and diverse ways of approaching and creating stories or tales of divergent endings.

Then, I concentrate.
I isolate myself for a moment and I get ready to capture on paper the theme that is born and is foreshadowed.
In front of me, a pigeon with a small branch of rosemary is still lying and exposed to my gaze.
The muses, who returned, ignited my anxious soul of desires.
Every writer is a victim of those waves that show moments of fullness and emptiness.

Waves of life when one is awake...

Note:
I warmly invite @belkyscabrera @numa26 @oneray and @cetb2008 to participate in this fun dynamic proposed by @wrestlingdesires

Hace algún tiempo, en un país tropical, rodeado por las aguas del Mar Caribe, una gran parvada de palomas, buscando anidar en lugares seguros, se estableció en las plazas que conformaban la belleza arquitectónica en cada ciudad y cada pueblo, del mismo.
La Iglesia Catedral, destacaba por su arquitectura, de antaño, sus imágenes sacras, eran esculpidas en otro continente, obsequio de los reyes y gobiernos de turno. Fue testigo de tertulias, paseos, momentos de juegos y parejas que discretamente se tomaban de la mano, mientras los niños alimentaban y correteaban a las palomas, que abundaban en los jardines y parques en toda la ciudad.
Ellas volaban hasta los cocales, y en sus copas construían sus nidos, protegidos por el ramaje de las hojas de palma. En los grandes ventanales, cuyos marcos eran las enredaderas de malanga, o las trenzas con rosales en flor de las mansiones familiares. Las palomas hacían sus visitas vespertinas, despidiendo la tarde con aleteos en los balcones enrejados, para hacerse notar.
Algunas comenzaron a ser entrenadas para enviar mensajes o citas pendientes, otras para enviar cartas de guerra o confrontación, y por último, las que se enviaban los enamorados.
De esta manera, se conformaron miles de palomares en los campanarios y lugares donde la gente pasaba en funciones de rutina. Transcurrió el tiempo y con él los años de bonanza y paz. Todo era hermoso, había convivencia y mucha armonía, y los humanos disfrutaban compartiendo sus vidas, y sus momentos con estas aves mensajeras de paz.
Llegaron los tiempos de revolución y guerras. Lucha por territorios y batalla entre los mismos habitantes por quedarse con el poder a toda costa… Y nuestras palomas iban y venían, atravesaban fronteras cruzando el alto mar, para lograr llevar mensajes a escondidas sin que las interceptaran, comenzó la lucha por la supervivencia, ellas, fieles a sus humanos solo hacían lo que sabían, alegrar a los niños, llevar y traer mensajes y ser la representación del Espíritu Santo en las Iglesias.
La situación ya era insostenible, la lucha se les hizo cuesta arriba, no las podían descubrir en alta mar, porque las derribaban, seguían con esperanzas de llegar a conseguir la libertad de antes, pero ahora a escondidas, protegiendo sus nidos, debajo de los techos de las casas, y dentro de los campanarios.
No tenían calma, no podían desplegar sus alas para partir, porque las amedrentaron tanto que se volvieron sumisas y con el tiempo, muy temerosas de la mano del opresor.
Cesaron las guerras, llegó la calma, pero nunca la paz. Solo había humanos en busca de provisiones. Habían triunfado quienes a punta de opresión minimizaron sus esperanzas e ideales. Pasaron los años y con ellos llegó la otra gran guerra, la guerra para la supervivencia. Nuestras palomas se sumaron a esta batalla, sin éxito, por cierto.
Hoy, en pleno año 2024, una pareja de youtubers, visitó el país, que un día fue paradisíaco, y que aún guarda recuerdos de sus bellos parajes históricos, y decidieron primero ir a conocer la Catedral que hoy aún se conserva de pie. Subieron los escalones que dan con la entrada, y al llegar al gran portal de la Iglesia, la chica comienza a grabar lo hermoso de aquel lugar, la plaza, los bancos que aún se encuentran incólumes, como si nunca hubiese pasado nada. De pronto se cruzaron sus miradas y…
Ella _ ¿No extrañas algo?
Él _ Sí, no hay palomas.
Ella _ ¡Nunca había visto una plaza sin palomas revoloteando!
Él _ Recuerda, que durante la guerra por la supervivencia, también llegó la hambruna…

Ha sido un placer participar por primera vez en este interesante reto, promocionado por, @wrestlingdesires. Gracias, amigo @emilorio por tan gentil invitación.
Invito a participar a mis amigos, @yenmend, @jlufer y @jaci11.

Hello friends and @wrestlingdesires,I have a story for you, I gave it the title : Baby Dove and his Rescuer

  One sunny summer morning, Matt had just finished feeding his pet chickens behind the house, he checked the condition of the chicken coop to see if there was any damage.  At that time, he saw a nest lying on the grass, Matt immediately approached and found a baby pigeon in the nest.  Matt checked the condition of the baby pigeon, he found one of its wings was broken, the baby bird seemed to be in pain.  Matt doesn't know where this bird's nest came from, maybe it was carried by the wind from somewhere and fell in his chicken coop.  Matt took the baby bird home. "Your mother must be looking for you, she is sad to have lost her child".

  Matt immediately treated the bird's broken wing. He also fed the baby bird with crushed corn flakes.  The baby bird began to recover quickly, he began to be able to jump and move his broken wing.

  It doesn't feel like a week has passed and now the baby bird can move its wings.  Matt was happy and sad at the same time, he was happy to see that the baby bird had recovered and he was also sad because he had to part with the baby bird.

  One afternoon, when Matt was going to feed the baby bird, he couldn't find it, Matt thought maybe the baby bird had flown into the wild.  When Matt passed the mango tree next to the house, Matt heard the sound of a baby bird on the branch of the mango tree. It turned out that the baby bird could fly.  When he saw Matt coming, he immediately flew over.

  Now that the baby bird has fully recovered, Matt says to it "fly high, be free". The baby bird seemed to understand Matt's words. He nodded and then flew away slowly. Matt was sad but he had to let it go. He knew that one day they would be apart and maybe today would be the last day they met.


  In the afternoon Matt heard a noise in the mango tree and was surprised to see the baby pigeon perched on one of the branches.  The baby bird approached Matt, he was not afraid of Matt's presence.  Now that the two of them have become friends, Matt built a cage on a mango tree and the baby pigeon lives there now.  That's how the relationship between the two of them was formed, Matt sincerely cared for an injured baby bird until it recovered and the bird reciprocated with friendship.  Whatever good we do, one day it will come back to us.

I invite @maytom and @hindavi to join this very fun game

Mission failed.

In the San Vicente Cathedral, the largest in Paradise City, a wedding will take place next weekend, the groom anxious to hear from his beloved sends a message with his faithful friend the dove Anastacia, who is known in the region for her generosity and punctuality in delivering messages, on this occasion was no exception and as always delivered the message to the happy bride.

Back home she could not help thinking about all the details of the wedding, she imagined Heidy with a beautiful white dress entering the church while the families and friends applauded and Arturo with sweaty hands waited anxiously at the altar; she was so concentrated in her thoughts that she did not see the wall of Aunt Susana's house and fell in the garden, the branch of rosemary that was Heidy's answer to her beloved lost some leaves when falling, besides Anastacia hit a leg and could not fly.

With her sore, bandaged paw and the careful care of her aunt, she was able to fly after three days to the groom's house. Very sad, she explained what had happened and handed over the little that was left of the branch, the green color that Heidy wanted for the flowers would not be possible because the branch was turning brown.

I appreciate the invitation from my friend @emiliorios and I invite @annfenix and @evelin71

Hello, this is my story inspired by the beautiful photograph of @titofi and the memory of a little pigeon that came to my home.

Little pigeon, you can fly

My mother brought her into the house one rainy afternoon. She had her wrapped in her coat. You were so little and she was still feathering. She found her at the foot of the jabillo tree. She had fallen out of her nest.

Your parents and your little siblings were wondering what had happened to you. You tried to fly, little pigeon, and your wings flapped excitedly to reach the sky. But it wasn't the right time, and you fell. And although we tried hard to keep you comfortable and fed, little by little, your little eyes went out. Your movements to lift you off the ground became slower and slower, and you stayed curled up in the little box with fabrics, where you imagined yourself in your warm nest, fed by your mother's beak.

Why couldn't we save you?, and our tears were the answer to that question

And although my veterinarian friend told me that this is the law of nature and that for some reason you could not survive, I am comforted to think that in that instant of time your wings spread, your body lifted and your little black shining eyes saw the light coming through the balcony. You answered its call and flew for the first time.

Thank you for reading