Wings to the South

The Featherstone bird family and their annual migration vacation to the southern coast.

Every year, like clockwork, the Featherstone family took to the skies and migrated south for their annual vacation.

Franklin, the youngest of the trio, flapped in excited circles outside their nest the morning of departure, his little wings buzzing with anticipation. “Do you think the mango trees will be ripe this year?” he chirped to his mother.

“They usually are,” she replied with a smile, smoothing down the feathers on his crown. “You know Grandpa always saves the juiciest ones for you.”

Franklin’s heart fluttered. Mangoes, sunshine, and his grandparents' cozy old fig tree—this was his favorite time of year.

His sister, Milly, barely peeked out from under her wing. “Do we have to go again? The beach is noisy. I want to stay and watch the snow.” She sighed dramatically. “Besides, none of my friends go south.”

Their older brother, Jasper, swooped down from a branch above, already mid-preen. “The beach is where all the action is! You just don’t know how to have fun, Milly. I’ve got plans to meet up with the guys and join the aerial surf races. It’s gonna be epic.”

Their father chuckled from the edge of the branch, eyeing the sunrise. “Well, ready or not, it’s time to stretch those wings. Your grandparents are expecting us by sunset.”

The flight south was a long one, filled with gusty winds, gliding thermals, and Franklin’s endless chatter. He pointed out every cloud shaped like something funny and buzzed with questions about what they'd do first; visit the banyan grove? Build sand nests on the beach?

When they finally arrived, the sun was setting over the golden coast. Grandpa greeted them with a hearty flap, Grandma with a warm hug of wings. Mango slices were waiting on wide green leaves.

By nightfall, Milly was building sand nests with a cousin she hadn’t seen in a year. Jasper was already off laughing with his friends, and Franklin fell asleep under the stars, belly full and heart happy.

The next morning, Franklin woke to the sound of ocean waves and the smell of sun-warmed fruit. He stretched his wings and fluttered out of the fig tree where the family was staying. Grandma was already up, sweeping fallen leaves off the branch patio with her tail feathers.

“Morning, sunshine,” she chirped. “Sleep well?”

“Like a hatchling!” Franklin said, beaming. “Can I go see the tide pools today?”

“Of course. Take your sister with you she’s just down by the driftwood with your cousin Nia.”

Franklin zipped off eagerly, gliding over the soft sand. Sure enough, Milly and Nia were poking at tiny crabs with twigs, their earlier awkwardness replaced by laughter.

“Hey!” Franklin called. “Want to see if the starfish are out today?”

Milly looked up, her feathers sunlit and golden. “Sure. Nia says there’s one that’s bright blue!”

The three of them explored the tide pools, marveling at the slippery sea cucumbers and watching little fish dart through the shallow water. Milly, to Franklin’s delight, didn’t complain once.

Meanwhile, Jasper was soaring high above the beach, diving and looping through the air with a crew of fast-flying teenagers. His feathers shimmered with salt spray as they raced against the breeze, shrieking and laughing. He even won a mid-air limbo contest, barely dodging a hanging vine.

At lunch, the whole family gathered under the old fig tree. Grandpa brought out spicy beetle snacks, and Grandma served fresh mango smoothies.

“I forgot how much I love it here,” Milly admitted between sips.

Mother looked at her with a knowing smile. “It’s okay to outgrow parts of things, but sometimes when you come back, you find something new to love.”

Father nodded. “Every year, the place stays the same, but we change, just a little.”

That night, after the sky turned deep purple and the stars blinked to life, Franklin sat beside his grandfather, watching the waves.

“Do we always have to go back home?” he asked.

Grandpa chuckled. “That’s the thing about vacations, Frankie. They remind us where home is, but they also remind us where we love to return.”

Franklin smiled, his heart full. Maybe Milly would grumble next year, maybe Jasper would get even faster, but he knew one thing for sure:

If they were together, flying south would always feel like coming home.

Word Count: 716
Written for: "Writing 4 Kids"