As I sit here and look up at the rooster on the shutter to the right and the dragon on the shutter to the left, I am comforted.  The dragon’s iridescent wings almost always make me smile and the rooster’s golden beak and wildly colored tail just plain give him character.

I look at the rooster and I am pretty sure he could tell me some wild tales about what went on in that bin of Beanie Babies over the past however many years.  He has that knowing look.  He is feigning innocence, but I know better.  What stories he must have of the cohabitation of snakes and dogs and otters and beavers and moose and pterodactyls and bears and zebras and dragons and who knows what else!

The dragon just looks like fun.  His tongue is always sticking out, presumably having just given me a raspberry.  I wonder where his hoard is?  I wonder what his prize jewel is?  He looks like a fairly young dragon, maybe not old enough to know that diamonds and rubies are supposed to be his treasures.  Maybe his treasures are kites and cupcakes,  Hard to tell; he isn’t talking.

I am pleased to say that the two of them have never talked to me.  That makes me feel a bit better about my sanity.  The fact that I keep them … well, that might also speak to my sanity.  After a few decades my daughter and son and I went through the bin and pulled out the ones that were special to us.  The dragon, rooster, pterodactyl, bat, and a few others were the ones I chose to keep.  My daughter and son also kept a few, but dozens went on their way to a classroom to delight children they had not yet met.

But what of the rooster and the dragon here right now?  What bit of whimsy are they bringing to me?  I put them there because I liked them.  I wonder what their message for me is?

Is the rooster telling me to proclaim my ideas to the world, to strut my brilliant tail feathers for all to see, to pay no attention to the clock and crow whenever I am moved to do so?  Is the dragon telling me the wings sparkle in the evening’s light when it is time to go play, that whatever my hoard is, diamonds and rubies or kites and cupcakes, I should revel in them and breathe fire on anyone who tries to take them away, and that giving people raspberries is often the most appropriate response?  No wonder I have these two in here now – they are reminding me to play, to create, to enjoy!  Maybe they are telling me to find my brilliant tail feathers and my iridescent wings and go out and crow a little.