The Very Heart of Winter❄️

 

*

 
            The wind came to Ralph one day, blowing long and cold and low. The sky closed down, tight, white, and dense.
            “Winter is coming, Forest Lord,” said the wind.
            “It feels early,” said Ralph.
            “Aye, you’ll see!” said the wind, hurrying away to the west.
            Standing there, among the firs, Ralph raised his hands to the sky, and sang a wordless song, a song low and slow. It was a song of his fathers. A song to welcome winter.
            Then he listened. As if in answer the remaining leaves sighed and relinquished their hold with a dry papery sound. Then the Forest was silent.
            “So, fall is over,” said Ralph, and headed on down to the fire to talk to Ramona.
            It was getting colder quickly. By the time he got to the fire, tiny flakes of snow were falling, and his breath went before him in clouds.
            “Mona, the wind tells me that winter is coming,” he smiled.
            “Winter changes things, Baby,” she said. The tiny flakes fell in her hair giving her a festive look. “I love winter,” she said.
            “I think I’ll go check in on Rick. I’ll tell him what the wind tells me,” said Ralph.
            Well, as you know, winter is different outside the Home Clearing. The snow really piles up outside. By the time Ralph got to the parking lot it was up to his ankles, covering up the dirty refrozen stuff with stunning white.
            The campground was empty. But Rick’s rig was parked in its normal place. Snow was gathering on the hood, so he’d been there for a while. Dexter’s Honda wasn’t there. Leaving giant footprints, Ralph crossed over to the office door. He knew the snow would cover his tracks soon enough.
            He knocked, and slipped into the office.
            “Hey,” said Rick, yawning and closing his laptop.
            “Yep,” said Ralph, taking a seat. “I bet you wonder why I’m here.”
            “Figure you’ll tell me.”
            “The wind came through a while ago, Rick, and told me that fall is over and winter is here. It’s going to snow a lot,” said Ralph.
            Rick looked at him and didn’t speak. He got up and went out to the kitchen, coming back with two mugs of coffee. He set them down, and went back for a box of Safeway doughnuts to go with the Safeway coffee. It was a Safeway kind of day.
            “I believe you. Why wouldn’t I. The wind might hint to me, but it doesn’t give me the weather report,” said Rick after he had sat back down. “The campground is closed. Dexter and Hannah and Honey Bear have moved into Arlington for a while.”
            “Looks deserted,” said Ralph.
            “I have to stick around,” said Rick.
            “A funny thing happened a couple of days ago. It was getting dark. I was heading out to my truck to go home. And I saw something. This is hard to explain.
            “I glanced up into the campground because I caught something in the corner of my eye. It was a light. There’s no reason for a light to be there. Well, I had to go up there and see what it was, if I could. It was hard to say exactly where it was, so it was hard to say how big it was. It didn’t look like a flashlight, or a lantern. It was still.
            “When I got up there, I could see that it was right up over my head. I could see that it was about the size of a basketball. It was a very bright deep blue color.
            “’Who are you?’ popped out of my mouth before I could think what I was saying,” said Rick.
            “What then?” said Ralph.
            “I can’t tell anybody but you. This blue light thing, seeming to be hollow almost, like a bubble, sank down to my eye level and just a few feet ahead of me. And I began to hear music, and it became brighter, and then brighter!
            “I panicked. I started hauling off backwards, tripped and fell and when I looked up, sitting there on the asphalt, it was gone.
            “What was that, Ralph? Do you know what that was?” said Rick.
            “It’s more a case of who that was. A person,” said Ralph.
            “A person?” repeated Rick.
            “They’ve been around so long that they don’t have the kind of bodies that you and I do. They’re alive. You started the conversation when you asked who it was!” said Ralph. “He won’t hurt you. Probably thought you were ready to talk!”
            “That was kind of sudden!” burst out of Rick.
            “You’re a lucky man. You’ve had a taste of the music of the spheres! If you see him again, try asking him something. See what happens. But if you see an orange one, don’t touch!” said Ralph. “There must be a reason he came to you.”
            Outside, the snow was falling heavily. Ralph’s tracks were barely visible.
            “I sure don’t know why that would be,” said Rick. “What’s wrong with the orange ones?”
            “They aren’t evil, but they don’t mix well with flesh and blood. It might be OK to talk to one of those, just don’t touch.” Ralph said as he chose a chocolate doughnut with white icing.
            “Things are sure different from how I thought they were. What’s next?” said Rick.
            “I can’t tell you what’s next. I don’t know. But I know who to trust, and so do you,” Ralph smiled.
            “That’s true. Can’t go wrong that way,” said Rick, smiling at last.
            “No fear!” said Ralph. He had a pumpkin spice doughnut next.
            “I think I’ll skedaddle back to the fire!” said Ralph.
            “Say hi to Ramona, Ralph!” Rick called as Ralph slipped out into the snowstorm.

❄️💙❄️

* Probably shot by my Navigator.

🐈‍⬛In Which The Girls Stage a Protest & Gossip a Bit

 

            “Suzy, I’ve been wondering how it’s going down there under the desk these days?” said Toots, who was communing with Suzy from her favorite retreat amongst the lumber. It’s nice there, and a girl can really think.

            “Well, as they say, it’s going,” said Suzy, when she picked up the transmission. “Those two still look at me. They’re bigger all the time. Maybe there’s been a terrible mistake, and they are actually jaguars?”

            “I wouldn’t like to live with two jaguars either! How do you manage, Dear?” said Toots, imagining it all too well.

            “I protest! What else can I do?” replied Suzy. “I hiss, growl, and go for their noses!”

            “If it were me, Honey, I would scream like a banshee!” agreed Toots.

            “As far as my accommodations, it’s quite nice! I have everything I need, except the run of the house!”

            “You know what I protest?” said Toots. “The ignominious lack of respect given Felicette, the French cat who was sent into space! The Tom, who was supposed to take the trip, ran away when danger threatened, which was actually pretty sharp of him, so they battened onto dear Felicette, who was said to be a stray of the streets so that no one would care about her fate!”

            “Oh! What happened?” said Suzy.

            “She was a Tuxi, too! It isn’t right!” said Toots. “She was sent into space. But not like we do it, which is completely harmless! Then the space capsule came back down, with a parachute, and she survived the trip.

            “There should have been a parade in her honor, but no, Suzy. They 'put her to sleep' and examined her brain!” whispered Toots.

            “Oh, for shame! What did they expect to find? Little tiny ET’s?” said Suzy.

            “The mind boggles!” said Toots. “I’m sure it would be different now! That was a long time ago.”

            “I must admit that these big spotty, stripy dummies don’t endanger my life. They just make me feel all edgy and nervous,” said Suzy, while keeping a sharp eye out for the same.

            “By the way, how’s your boyfriend?” said Suzy.

            “I haven’t seen him in a while, and he better keep it that way! Ahem! Thank you!”

            “Oh, I thought you liked him! Ah, see anything else interesting out of your window?” Suzy was giggling now.

            “Not lately. But I think they know I’m watching, so they stay away,” said Toots, looking fierce.                

            “Brrrrt! Ewwww!” growled Suzy. “What would you do if you saw something OFF?”

            “Scream! You betcha! Until he came out to see!” said Toots.

            “Well, just pray that the Red Dot doesn’t come to your house! We are haunted by it! I never know when it will appear, and it is fickle and elusive above all things! It cannot be captured or eaten. It has no substance, Toots! It’s horrible beyond belief and definitely OFF!”

Suzy said in an awed voice. “I protest the Red Dot, but I don’t know if that will do me any good.”

            “Suzy, let us Purr™ together that the Red Dot never comes to our houses!” said Toots.

            “Ameow!” said Suzy.

            “Ameow, indeed!” said Toots.

            So, having said their bit for today, the girls bid you a very pleasant Suzday, and say Goodbye for now!

 

MEOW!

❤️

🍁Ralph Country, October 26, 2012 🍁

 Just a quiet drive into the forest one day.

It was a misty, perfect October afternoon.

You'd have to be pretty tough and very adapted,

to live out there.

They make the local Indigenous, before contact, look high tech!

I hope you also have a perfect October day.

Ralph agrees, and his invitation still stands.

💚

I'm Not A Plaidie!

 

            Berry saw it first. He gave Bob a significant look, and nodded toward it.
            “I wonder if it’s edible,” said Berry, standing up and trying to get a better look.
            What they saw was a red pointed object moving around through the melting snow and fallen brush in the smaller meadow, out beyond Uncle Bob’s Stump House. It moved in an wandering pattern, like some creature trying to get through rough terrain.
            “I don’t know yet,” said Bob. “I think we had better go find out!”
            “Oh, I hope it’s good to eat!” said Berry.
            So, together they slunk carefully, and subtly as they could manage, golden eyes shining, in the direction of this anomaly. It took a few direction changes as the quarry moved in an erratic pattern, following no known path.
            At last, their paths met with a small person wearing a tall red cap, little leather boots, and the whole deal. He also had long silver whiskers down to his belt in front. There were silver buttons on his jacket of blue.
            “It’s a Plaidie,” whispered Bob to Berry.
            “Ho there, Plaidie,” said Berry. He licked his lips. Bob laughed beside him.
            The wee fellow looked at them in alarm. “I’m no Plaidie!”
            “It’s true that no Plaidie would dare run loose in here,” said Berry, rather disappointed, because he was a bit hungry.
            “We’ve never eaten a Plaidie,” said Bob. "And now we can't eat this guy!"
            “There’s always a first time,” said Berry. "But not this time!"
            They watched as the manikin took off down the meadow without wasting a moment.
            Soon, Aunt Suzy, who was outside sitting on her little chunk of a trunk, saw the pointed red thing approaching. She stopped what she was doing with the fire, and stared.
            “Bob!” she called. “What is that?”
            He came out of the Stump to take a look, standing there with a confused look on his face, not an uncommon occurrence
            It was zipping along pretty well now because there was an actual path through the crunchy snow and beaten down grass.
            “It’s a Plaidie!” said Uncle Bob, when it got close.
            “It can’t be, Bob. They can’t get in here,” said Aunt Suzy. “But what can it be?”
            If they had been trying to grab him it would have been an easy catch. He ran right up on them standing by the fire, and slid to a stop, looking up at Bob and then Suzy.
            “Whoa!” said Uncle Bob. “Are you a new kind of Plaidie?”
            “Why does everybody keep asking me that?” said the short man in the red hat. He looked disgusted by the question.
            “We’ve never seen you around here before,” said Uncle Bob.
            “That’s obvious!” called the little guy as he took off again, heading toward the Home Clearing, whether he knew that or not.
            “Not something you see every day,” said Aunt Suzy, with her hands on her hips watching him split southward.
            The next party to notice the red pointed thing moving rapidly through the brush was Cherry, who was perched up on Ralph’s cedar log with Maeve, having a nice conversation about stuff. You know.? It was dry up there, because the sun had been shining for a couple of days.
            “Do you see that?” Cherry asked Maeve.
            “Now I do. Whatever can it be?” said that lady bird. “It just can’t be a Plaidie. Anyhow, I’ve never seen one in a pointy red hat!”
            He ran right up to the log and looked at Cherry and then looked at Maeve.
            “I’m not a Plaidie, in case you are wondering,” said he.
            “You’re new around here, aren’t you?” said Cherry.
            “Yes, I am. I must say that it has been a strange introduction to this forest!” he said, in exasperation. “I don’t even know what a Plaidie is. They must be real stinkers, from the sound of it.”
            “I think we better go see my father and mother. My father is the Forest Lord here,” said Cherry. She jumped down off of the log, to be on the same level with the little man.
            “Is he friendly?” said himself.
            “Oh, yes. No problem. If you’re going to be around here you should probably meet him anyhow, and mom too,” said Cherry. “I’ll show you the way.”
            Cherry walked beside him, and Maeve flew-hopped, as they followed the well-worn path to the fire circle.
            “What’s your name, by the way?”
            “Sven Olafssen.”
            “I am Cherry, and the Raven is Maeve,” said Cherry.
            “Evermore,” remarked Maeve, mid-hop.
            In pretty much a twinkling, this group presented itself at the fire circle. Ralph looked at them and smiled.
            “Welcome,” said Ramona. “Sit by our fire, Sir!”
            “His name is Sven Olafssen,” said Cherry, rather proud because she remembered the very unfamiliar name.
            “You are welcome, Sven Olafssen,” said Ralph, who was very curious. “I’m glad the Forest gave you passage among us.”
            “My thanks, Forest Lord and Lady,” said Sven very nicely.
            “No need to be so formal, I am Ralph and my Firekeeper is Ramona. I see that you have already met Cherry and Maeve.”
            “You honor me,” said Sven.
            “Please be seated,” said Ralph. “So tell me, Sven, how do you come to be here?”
            With some difficulty, Sven climbed aboard one of the convenient log sections placed around the fire.
            “Sir, Ralph,” he said, “And Ramona, I am a professional. I go about the forests and fields. I have certain duties. I plant mushrooms. I encourage bees. I count and succor the field mice. In addition, I tidy the nut trees, and keep the blackberries from smothering themselves with overgrowth.
            “If you will allow it, I will stay and nurture this forest,” said Sven. “I see some need.”
            “You are certainly welcome,” said Ralph. “But where will you make a home?”
            “Oh, I will make a small underground house, and in time I will bring Rosa. You will barely notice us.”
            “That sounds wonderful. You must bring Rosa to meet us too,” said Ramona. “Now, would you like to have some fish soup with us? It’s just now ready.”
            “Yes, thank you, but tell me, what in the world is a Plaidie?”
            “In two words, a wicked Fae,” said Ralph.
            “Oh,” said Sven. “Them! Never heard the name.”
            “Local variant,” said Ralph.
            So it was that Sven and Rosa Olafssen, Forest Gnomes, professionals, came to live in the Great Forest.
            Sometimes someone saw Sven, but usually they didn’t!

🍁💚🍁

The Story of The True Cat, As Told by Aunt Julia

Willie, helping.

A Chapter from Mirage.

            To entertain Emmy, Julia decided to tell her a story. It was the story of the True Cat. It may seem strange to tell such a young child a story that way, but Emmy was an unusual baby and Julia knew it. As you have surmised, Julia knew a great number of things.

            “Long ago, Emmy, in a land far away by the sea, when language was growing and branching and becoming itself in many ways, there were three important words that I want to tell you about.”
            Emmy turned her shining dark little eyes on the old lady. Any child likes to hear a story. Even the two animals seemed to attend. We know Billy did.
            “These words are, troth, truth, and plight, in the sense of pledge. These may not seem related at first. But they are very old words. Usually, they are part of a marriage ceremony, even up to the present times. To say ‘I plight my troth’ means to promise on risk of being a liar or untrustworthy. This promise is made to a true love. That is a love in truth or in troth.
          "Well, Emmy, we have inherited these old English peoples’ language. So, we have to deal with it. We Indians came to the same conclusions by different means with different words. Now we borrow these meanings.
            "So, true love. But there is also another story. In every cat lover’s life, there is also a True Cat.”
            Billy looked wise and kept his own council, as this was a story he knew well.
            “A girl or a boy never knows how their True Cat will come to them. In fact, they usually don’t know there is such a thing until it happens. Sometimes a child is given a kitten by a parent or some friend, and the child and the cat grow up together. This might be a very true love.
            “Sometimes a kitten or a cat just comes to your door, and you let him in. In that case the cat has chosen you, and that is very special. You must never turn a cat away from your door for he or she may be your True Cat.
            “But then, sometimes when you are an older person, you will be walking somewhere minding your own business, full of all kinds of thoughts, and you will find in your path a cat or a baby kitten even that is in dire need of help. You must help. For this one likely will become your True Cat. If it needs a doctor, you must provide one. If it just needs food and shelter you can do all of that yourself. To help this creature that God put in your path is a very high calling indeed.
            “When you answer that calling you are pledging your honor or your truth, to love and care for the cat. Not in so many words usually, Emmy.
            “Now I will tell you how Billy came to me.
            “I had never been alone. All my life there were others. First a mother and father, then just my father. Then I got a husband. Then we were parents of two children. But children grow up and they must live their own lives. Soon my children became adults and left my home. Then John Chee, who had been my husband for so long weakened and died. Then, Emmy, I was alone most of the time. I gave his old truck to my son, Ben, because I never learned to drive. I probably should have, but I didn’t.
            “One day I asked my son to take me to Winslow for grocery shopping. In an alley beside the store there was a dumpster. I could hear some small cries coming from the dumpster. So, Ben and I opened it. Inside, in a plastic bag, was a small wet tabby kitten. He had been thrown away as if he were garbage. Thrown away alive! Well, you know what happened of course. I brought him out here. Then I set about mothering him.
            “First, I fed him a little. Then I gave him a warm bath and a good rub down with a towel. Then, more feeding. Then he was sleepy. I made him a nest by putting a folded towel in a square basket. Ben and I had picked up litter and canned kitten food, and a box for the litter, after we found the kitten, so that was taken care of also.
            “He never used his nest much. Only when I was up and busy. Most of the time he slept on my shoulder in bed when I slept. I hope this old story isn’t putting you to sleep, Emmy!
            “So, I was not alone then. I called him Billy because it seemed like a fine name for an Indian kitty. In time, I noticed as he grew, that he was an unusual cat. He watched out for me. He could hear and see things which I could not perceive. If someone walked near the house, he told me with gestures and by his expression. If my thoughts wandered down sad paths he knew and he came to me and he lifted my heart. He was in fact a Watcher; a sort of angel and he was my True Cat.”
            The old lady stopped speaking then. She sighed and smiled at the tiny girl asleep in her carrier. She patted Billy’s head as he sat beside her. Honda opened his eyes briefly. She smiled at him too and he went back to sleep.
            When the blue pickup drove back up the driveway no one was awake in the house. The slight rattle and engine noise didn’t disturb the sleepers at all.

💙

🐈‍⬛Reflections on Passing The Baton & The True Cat

 

            Like many of us, I have known a lot of cats! I believe I loved every one of them, though my appreciation has developed over the years. We always had cats at home, but my old man, being essentially a farmer, didn’t have pets in the house, neither cat nor dog. It’s a different kind of relationship when the animal doesn’t live in the house with you at least part of the time.
            I didn’t know any better. My first dogs, but not Layla, lived out of doors, and so did the cats. That seems very strange now. Now, I think what’s the use of having a cat or a dog if you don’t actually live with the creature?
            So, who is the True Cat? I think that primarily he is the cat who takes a personal interest in his human friend. It seems like he is on an assignment of his own choosing. I guess it takes perception to see that interest in a cat. I know there are people who think that cats are all the same, aloof, and maybe unloving.
            We know differently, of course. Each one of the little fur bombs is totally on his own little trip. Examples abound. Sweetie will move over if I ask him to. Booker will not. Either he doesn’t want to, or he doesn’t know what I’m asking for. Sweetie stays awake to be with me, Booker sleeps a lot and I often don’t know where he is. Like that.
            I think that one might have several True Cats over the course of a life. I loved Henry, who lived before Willie and Suzy, and was a wonderful creature, fine and beautiful, but I didn't know about the True Cat yet.
            After I wrote about Julia telling Emmy the story of the True Cat, I began to wonder if I had such a cat, a cat who is my personal friend. At the time, Willie was with us, and he sure fit the description. If I looked up, he was there. Most usually he was looking at me. He was a little bossy. He knew when it was bedtime and would make sure I knew too. He was a fine watchcat too!
            Ah, it’s hard to explain. But I remember many a night, here at the desk, with him on the pull-out typewriter extension, and he would be holding my right wrist, eyes closed. I had never known an animal like him. I know he loved me, but I didn’t know why. It was an experience of a type of grace. Maybe some of these guys are messengers?
            Now that Sweetie, and Booker of course, are about 11 months old, it seems like the assignment has been passed to Sweetie.
            He is a well-named cat.

💙

Cherry & The Bear! 🤎

 

            She stopped. There was a strange little cry, repeating. She looked all around, but didn’t see anything. She looked up. Something was about 80 feet up a fir tree, that is by our lights, 80 feet. It was dark, and seemed furry.
            “What are you doing up there?” Cherry said. She didn’t get an answer, just more crying. It wasn’t exactly clear who was up there either.
            What could she do? Naturally, being Cherry, after all, she drifted up the tree trunk until she was near the creature. It turned out to be a bear cub. Not very old.
            “Why did you climb up here, Bear,” she said, kindly.
            The cub, who had been crying and hanging on, with his eyes closed, opened his teary little eyes and looked at her. He was so shocked that he almost lost his grip on the bark.
            He closed his eyes again, and turned his head away.
            “Can you talk?” she asked.
            There was more crying, and tree clinging.
            “I think you should talk. Would you try please, Bear?”
            “Mama!” he blurted suddenly.
            “That’s a good first word, Bear. Everybody wants their mama. Especially when up a tree! Do you have a name, or don’t bears have names? I don’t know because I’ve never talked with a bear before,” Cherry said.
            “What’s a name?” said the bear cub, actually looking at her curiously at this point.
            “The sound your mama makes when she is calling you, maybe,” said Cherry.
            “Oh. Wruff. That must be my name,” he said, actually smiling a little.
            “How would you like to climb back down, Wruff?”
            “I’m afraid!”
            “Why?”’         
            “I’m lost. I’m hungry. I figured I would have to die up here,” said Wruff. “And I saw a big scary creature like you.”
            Cherry laughed. “You probably saw my father. He is very big, but not scary.”
            “What if he picked me up and ate me?” said Wruff.
            “Don’t be silly! I can’t help you find your mama if you stay up here,” she pointed out.
            Wruff lowered himself down a few feet. “Do you know where my mama is?”
            “No. But I bet she is looking for you right now. I bet she won’t be hard to find, but you gotta come down. Your mama is too big to climb trees to go looking for you!”
            He dropped down a few more feet. Cherry stayed right with him. So, he wouldn’t be scared. They worked they way down, bit by bit.
            About the time Wruff and Cherry were head height, for a Squatch, they heard a lot of commotion in nearby bushes. It sounded like an enormous animal on four feet.
            “Wruff! Wruff! Wruff!” the approaching voice called out sternly.
            “Mama!” said the cub, who let go entirely, and fell to the ground.
            “Oh! Where did you find him?” she said when she saw Cherry bobbing gently in the air above Wruff.
            “He was up in this tree here. I heard him crying to I went up to see,” said Cherry.
            “Well! Thank you, Ralph’s Child! Maybe now he will learn not to wander when I sleep!” said the mama bear, as she marched her son away. Cherry could hear some of what she was telling her son as they went off to wherever bears go when they go.
            “I’m glad you found him,” said Maeve, from a branch overhead. “She wanted me to search from the air.”
            “I never talked to bears before, “said Cherry.
            “Well, now you have, Ralph’s Child!” said Maeve.
            So, little platinum blond Cherry, standing in a bit of snow, smiled up at the great black Raven, who gave her a little wink, and a Raven smile.

🖤🐦‍⬛🖤