THE LAND


Ok people, this is me.  This is why I AM the golden elf....Well,
really just the elf. This is my LAND. This is a peice of me that I
TRIED to keep away from others. For they had soiled it, I thought. But
I was wrong, this is me and THEY can do nothing to me except toss me
into a defensive reaction. That's what happens when you pull the right
strings. But now it is different. This is ME ONLY. This is MINE *ONLY*
this is a piece of me. I give it to those who have shown me they wish
friendship. So I say the usual. Do not fold, spindle or mutilate, for
it WILL cause me to become angry. I Do not profess to be a writer, but
this is my ONLY form of release. So read or not, your choice.

   She stepped out of the tree base. The giant, gnarled oak standing
like the sentinel he was above her. The cardinal chirped a hello to
her and she waved and chirped back at him. He landed on her open palm
and cocked a wary eye at her. Warning her that danger still existed.
She nodded sadly to him and he hopped off her fingertips and he
stroked his way to the top branches of their mutual home.
   She walked along the bank of the stream. The water flowed in a
quick tinkle over the small stones, passing around the rock. Her hand
grazed the lichen/moss covered surface of it feeling the alternating
textures as it went. The pale green of the staghorn lichen contrasting
with the deep green of the star moss. The first laying flat and
brittle on the surface, the other standing an inch or so off it in a
thick, soft mass. This was the place it began, the healing. This place
was brought to life in her by the flow of tears along it's surface.
This small, flat rock that stuck into the flow of the stream. The
opposing bank rose in gently curving tiers to the forest above and a
constant flow trickled from beneath the debris cluttering the ground
onto the rocks and into the stream adding to it's flow.
   She sat on it as she always did, first her hands wrapped around her
updrawn knees, chin in between them. Then finally after a time,
stretching out full on the rock. She wore her usual garb. A loose
fitting nondescript piece of fabric that wrapped itself around her
body hugging her close. Her exposed legs shone whitely in the sun
whose rays warmed her soul. Then, after a while, he came. The hawk. He
circled overhead and scanned the ground below him. She'd been gone
long. He let out with one shrill cry and plunged down to the surface.
His talons outstretched to grasp at his perch and he landed lightly on
the branch of a young maple  making the branch bend with his weight.
He cocked his watchful eye at her like he always did and she smiled
her welcome to him. He seemed a bit miffed at her and she stroked his
soft back in reassurance. He ruffled his feathers and hopped off the
branch and walked closer to her face. She closed on eye and narrowed
the other at him a smile playing on her lips. He pecked at her face,
quickly brushing against her cheek with his hard, cold beak. She
didn't flinch, she let him do his will to her. And when he was done
inspecting her he ruffled his feathers once more and cocked a shining
eye in her direction. "I know. I'm sorry." she told him and he looked
off into the distance. With one huge burst of energy he pushed himself
into the air and sailed off over the tree tops leaving his final call
ringing in her ears.
   She got up and moved on down stream. The trickle of water had grown
into a larger trickle, but still nothing much, to most people.  It was
fall now. The golden maple, red maple, the deep red of the dogwood and
the rusty redish brown of the oak combined with the deep green of the
ferns and stark, black, leafless branches of the honey locust to
create a pallet of color.  She moved further downstream and came to
the small pool.  Here the three sat.  Three large stones leaning
against each other, the last leaning into the eroding bank at it's
back.  And there in the shallows near the edge of the pool grew the
cardinal flower.  It's deep, almost blood red blossoms hanging their
heads pendulous, alternating in rows of two till they crowned in a
pinnacle of green and red at the top.  The alternate green leaves
stuck out from below the blossoms on a single, thin green stalk firmly
rooted in the silt.
   She walked over to them and wished she could be this one single
thing at this time in it's short life. Then laughed at herself,
because she wished this about the Jack-in-the-Pulpit and the Mayapple
and the hoary Puccon and so many others that she couldn't imaging the
numbers of them all. She realized she was squatting near the flower
and rose on aching knees and moved off down the stream with a sigh.
Someday maybe, if she was fortunate?
   The stream bed began to change shape and form. It began to fan out.
The banks becoming lower on one side fanning out into the forest
proper, trees reaching their roots deep into the rocky soil holding
the earth in place where they lived. The other began to rise in
height.  It's craggy surface changing subtly with each step. One
section went off level with the streambed turning into a ledge that
narrowed as it went around the curving wall of stone. At about 3 feet
up the wall broke into narrow sections that time had weathered away
unequally leaving behind narrow shelves of rock that climbed higher
and higher over the stream. Partridge berry grew down in profusion off
the ledge of the wall, it's deep red berry's enticing the woodland
animal to partake. Tiny fern-like mosses grew in the narrow cracks of
stone in the shade where no direct light penetrated through the canopy
of color above. Larger canebrake and rattlesnake ferns stood proudly
growing in the small bits of debris that collected in the crevices of
stone.
 
   The stream bed itself turned to stone and dropped off in small
ledges to the small pool below. She slid down the widening ledge until
her feet touched the pool. She reached into the water and pulled out a
handful of small, round rocks.  Sandstone, granite, limestone and
tossed them high into the sky. The soared up and quickly disappeared
from sight.  She knew they would land where she intended.  Others that
went where they didn't belong would crumple into dust.
   She looked up watching their path disappear and saw the hawk once
more. He cried to her and she saw him dive and grasp at one. He
brought it back to her and as he was overhead he dropped it onto her
hand. Cried his long lonely cry once more and circled off again. She
bowed her head to him and hoped he and the cardinal weren't right.
But if they were, this time she knew something. She had learned.
   She walked out of the pool into the light that filtered through the
break in the trees.  The trees surrounded this place like an army
waiting to crush the small at heart. She heard laughter here and there
amongst the bracken of the surrounding hills and she knew who it was.
Her people. At her feet the pool ended in a small damn of pebbles.
She looked to her right and the hill rose steeply in color with huge
pieces of stones set into the hillside on the way up to the crest.
They looked like they had slipped down the hill face and the trees
rooted in their bed surrounding them, holding them for the meetings to
come. Seats for the peoples. To the front of her was the other pool
fed by the spring further upstream. It spilled through the narrow
confines of earth and off the short ledge into the pool below that was
crossed with a large dead tree trunk covered heavily in mosses. The
ferns surrounded this pool thickly, protecting it from the usual
forest debris keeping the water fresh and clear.  This pool ended less
than a foot from where she stood, each pool separate, but joining
together just near her and moving off merrily down the small ravine to
be absorbed into the forest floor.
   She looked to her left. The cliff face rose above her. A small path
wound it's way to the ledge above and she walked it. First to the
left, then to the right. Holding the saplings put there to help her
navigate the incline that became steep at times.  She finally made it
to the top and stood on the ledge looking out over at both pools below
her.  The mosses and lichens were thick here on the ledge. They ended
a few inches from the edge. The tree stood overhead. It's based
planted firmly in the path below her. It overlooked the expanse of the
area, lost in time. It's age was untold, but it's wisdom was great.
For it was the elder. It stood quitely accepting all that went on
before it, it's only concern being of foothold. Life. She looked over
her LAND and she saw, once more the dance of the fairies. Small lights
glowing in the clearing below, never touching each other, never
touching the earth. Dancing and leaving small retinal trails on her
eyes when she closed them. THIS was her religion, her life, her reason
for being.  This was the LAND. This was Gaia, live giver, earth
mother, peace, harmony and unconditional love.

   Like I said people. This is as close to my soul as any human can
get. I can think of only one person in my whole life with whom I could
go back there and truly share the experience with. Thank you lover for
giving this part of me back to me. The beast almost killed...........
... almost............................GRIN