necessary supplies

My sister takes this bag with her everywhere, like a Mary Poppins bag only hers actually gets bigger from putting so much stuff in it so it’s practically as big as she is but she still carries it all the time, no matter where she goes.

Someday she’ll be an excellent nomad.

Right now it just slows her down when we walk, especially in the snow. I make a point to leave twenty minutes early whenever I have to take her anywhere. Even beyond the bag she gets easily distracted by all sorts of things, but if I complain to Mom about it she says I need to allow her to fully explore her curiosity and doesn’t seem to care that between her curiosity and her giant bag we’re always late for things, but Mom also says things like time is an illusion.

“What are you doing?” I ask my sister as she stops mid-walk to pull a scarf from her bag and tie it around a tree.

“Trees get cold,” she says, as though this is an obvious fact.

“Someone’s just going to take it,” I tell her, but she only shrugs.

“That’s okay. Maybe they’re cold, too.”

She gives the tree a friendly pat and then hefts her bag back on her shoulder so we can continue our slow journey through the snow.


About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.

Categories: flax-golden


Natasha · February 25, 2012 at 9:00 pm

that’s beautiful.

Nidhi Thakur · March 3, 2012 at 4:27 pm

Whimsical sisters.
I know them. I am one of them. Women are more likely to do something like this, than men, and sisters even more so. I know now what your sister’s bag’s belly carries—scarves and perhaps hats for the needy trees. Just like mine..though mine is filled up with rattles and pacifiers and emergency diapers and Desitins and all that for the baby’s butts and of course the caramel mocha colored lipstick for my lips and a pair of sunglasses–them demanding their own real-estate in the bag–big round goggles, in equally spacious quilted bag for them. All of them tumbled with the cell phone, the essential keys, and of course the card-laden wallet. My bag is like a laundry machine in action, you never can get what you want right away. You will invariably have to feel with your fingers through various shapes and textures inside the cavernous bag, to eventually get what you want–and yes you sure will get it–sooner than later, or sooner or later.

Tim O'Reilly · March 14, 2012 at 1:41 am

the dream,
as you know
is on this side of the fence.

your gift is wonderful;
more magic
if you please.

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