Odlazak u prvo svjetlo

Posljednjeg jutra Polly se posljednji put popne do stražarske kule i tamo zatekne Bertu, što je čudno za stvorenje koje tvrdi da prezire penjanje. Kuna slegne ramenima. Netko mora provjeriti je li izlazak sunca izveden kako treba, kaže. Sjede zajedno na starom kamenju dok nebo obavlja svoj spori, veličanstveni posao.

On her last morning, Polly climbs to the watchtower one final time, and finds Berta already there, which is odd for a creature who claims to despise climbing. The marten shrugs. Somebody has to check that the sunrise is done properly, she says. They sit together on the old stones while the sky goes about its slow, spectacular business.

Prvo svjetlo dotakne kulu, zatim se spusti niz zid, pa se prelije preko krovova, i na nekoliko minuta cijeli grad sja ružičasto i zlatno, kao da su kuće osvijetljene iznutra. Zvona stada slabašno dopiru s visokih livada. Dolje u klancu rijeka drži svoju drevnu petlju, grleći grad kao što ga grli već tisuću godina.

First light touches the tower, then walks down the wall, then spills across the rooftops, and for a few minutes the whole town glows rose and gold, as if the houses were lit from inside. The bells of the flock sound faintly from the high meadows. Down in the gorge, the river keeps its ancient loop, holding the town the way it has held it for a thousand years.

Berta ne radi oproštaje, objavi, a onda jedan ipak napravi, utisnuvši sušenu smokvu u Pollyno krilo s velikom odlučnošću. Za put, kaže. Gradovi poput ovoga ne zamjeraju kad ih se napusti, doda, jer znaju da je odlazak prva polovica povratka. Zatim otkasa niz zid, repa visoko podignuta, ne osvrćući se.

Berta does not do farewells, she announces, and then does one anyway, pressing a dried fig into Polly's wing with great firmness. For the road, she says. Towns like this one do not mind being left, she adds, because they know that leaving is the first half of coming back. Then she trots away down the wall, tail high, without looking around.

Polly se vine s kule i pusti rijeci da joj pokaže izlaz, prateći zelenu vodu kroz klanac dok se ružičasti grad ne presavije iza brežuljaka. Smokva će, odluči, biti za poslije, negdje daleko odavde, kad joj zatreba okus malog ružičastog grada.

Polly lifts off from the tower and lets the river show her the way out, following the green water through the gorge until the pink town folds away behind the hills. The fig, she decides, will be for later, somewhere far from here, when she needs to taste a small pink town again.