Let The Sunshine In!

     Two videos from Ted talks by Gerald Pollack of the Univ. of WA., dealing with the mysterious and significant properties of water and the action of light on water.

    It has to do with everything we have been thinking about recently, including free energy, grounding, proper care of our cells, that sort of thing.

    So, see what you think!

This one is about the fourth phase of water, which I had heard of, but knew nothing about.

    The following, more recent video, has more bearing on health with some reiteration.

    If you want more, he has written books. Gerald H. Pollack

    H/T The Bird

It Was A Grey Day And The Fir Trees Were Dripping

 

            It was about midday the next day when Ralph finally awoke from his long nap. He was alone in the cave. And he started thinking.  You know how it is.  You’re still lying there, but your mind is awake.
            He was a little worried.
            While he was thinking, Ramona and Cherry came through the door. Ramona noticed that Ralph was awake.
            “What did Maurice want in the middle of the night Ralph?” Ramona asked him, standing still for a moment, with Cherry perched on her hip.
            He sat up, hanging his feet off the side of the bed and said, “oh, he was just bummed because he got into trouble with those band people he was working with down south. The drummer’s cat disappeared.  Well, you can imagine why.
            “They kicked him out, of course. Not only that, but they also told him to get out of town.  So, he thought of us, and when he thought of us, his muzzle was pointed this direction.  So, of course this is the direction he headed.
            “I guess he thought I would help him somehow, or he was just you know…lost.
            “He’s kind of a bum, really, Ramona.  And, somehow, I always end up doing something I wish I hadn’t done, just to amuse him.”
            “Oh? I wondered what you guys did all night.  I thought you were just out there yakking, and feeding him a duck,” said Ramona.
            “Well, we went down by the river where those BigFoot hunters are camped, and we teased them. We got them all excited and then we split on them.  Those poor guys. I bet the whole story is online already in six different places.”
            “In the cold light of day, I feel like that was mean Ramona,” he said, standing up at last.     

      
            Ralph stepped outside and saw that it was cloudy and foggy up in the tree tops.  It had been raining and everything was drippy wet. He smiled when he saw Twigg and the puma bros. playing near the fire spot. But, he was still feeling regretful about the night before.
            “I think I better go back to the researcher’s camp and be nice, Ramona. People already think we are mean, or stupid, or imaginary or whatever.”
            “You better eat first,” she said.
            “Yeah, good idea,” said he, feeling better at the prospect of breakfast.
            So, sitting on one of the convenient logs, he had a bowl of wild blackberries, a cup of mint tea, and some cold left over roasted wild pig. He finished up with a couple of handfuls of wild hazel nuts, which grow in the edges of the great forest.
            He was feeling better, but knew he had something he had to do.
            He kissed Ramona and Cherry, and noogied Twigg, and he told them he would be back later and started down the same path that he and Maurice had taken last night. It still took about an hour.
            It was dark and damp all the way, but weather doesn’t bother Ralph.  He’s practically weather proof. It did bother the researchers.  They looked pretty dispirited when he came within sight of their camp.
            They had a much bigger fire this time. The guy with the sleeping bag had stuffed it in his car and was sitting on a folding camp chair with his elbows on his knees and his chin on his knuckles. He had a big wolfie-looking dog lying beside him. Ralph and Maurice hadn’t noticed the dog last night.
            The couple in the tent were in their tent with the door open, just looking out.  There was no sign of the older couple in the RV, but the RV was still there.
            Ralph felt a great wave of sympathy in his big old heart.  He smiled to himself, standing there out of sight. He decided to give them a visit that they would never forget!
            First, he sent a string of a dozen or so golden spheres of light sailing over their heads in a circle. To get their attention!  I told you Ralph has skills.  He sure does.
            The young guy hopped up, mouth open. His dog barked and ran in circles. The guy, whose name happened to be Mike, started yelling at the other campers. The people in their tent rolled out and stood amazed and silent. No one thought of a camera yet.
            Mike pounded on the side of the RV, hollering that they better come and look at this! Those two, Roger and Lulu, stuck their heads out and nearly fell out of their RV, totally astounded.
            Having gotten their attention, Ralph strode into the clearing. He let them just absorb his presence for a while.  He knew it was hard for humans to arrange their reality in such a way that he was there, and all the usual stuff was there too.  It takes a minute usually.
            He had the lights hold still then, because they are pretty distracting flying around like that, and he spoke.
            “Greetings, and welcome to the Baker/Snoqualmie National Forest. My English name is Ralph. A lady reporter from Milltown named me that, and I like it. The reason I appeared like this is in the way of an explanation  of all that nonsense last night. A friend and I were just teasing you guys.”
            The campers started looking around for their GoPros and recorders. Mike whipped out his iPhone 15.
            “I’m sorry,” said Ralph. “None of that stuff will work right now. My fault!
            “In relative obscurity is where we Forest Keepers must remain. Hard evidence, is a no no, you know?
            “But to go on, I regret that we created a false impression in your minds. Some of the younger ones among us do enjoy pranking you guys, but most of us don’t go around banging on trees or any of that stuff.  To your ears, if you heard us speaking our language it might sound pretty outlandish to you. But, please don’t be frightened. Most of us are friendly, if a little standoffish.
            “I just wanted to make it up to you by giving you something concrete to write up for your channels and journals.
            “I wanted to say that most of us like you humans, and we love this place we all share….. “
            Lulu, with her hands clasped under her chin, said, “oh thank you Ralph! You have answered so many questions, just by showing up!”
Roger and Mike and the couple from the tent, Dimitri and Lena, all nodded and tried to talk all at once.
            Ralph held up his big hands, just as wide as you can imagine. He said, “then I’m happy. I hope you’re happy campers too. I guess I’ll skedaddle. Take care everybody. Have fun camping and it was great to meet you!  Peace Out!”
            He remembered to put out the golden lights, turned on his big old heel, and headed up the path, rumbling deep in his chest. He couldn’t wait to tell Ramona and the kids all about it.
            He was feeling pretty darn good.
            And when the king is feeling good, why, it’s a good day all over the forest!

Both sections.

The Return of Maurice, The Dogfaced Boy

 

            By our reckoning it was about midnight when Ramona woke up.  She heard something at the door. Ralph was lying flat on his back, snoring. Cherry was tucked in between them, fussing a little because of the noise.  Twigg was in his basket nest with Berry and Bob, the puma bros.  It should have been a peaceful scene, except for that noise.

            She finally woke enough to realize that someone was knocking at the door of their cave.
            “Ralph, wake up,” she whispered loudly. He kept snoring.
            “Ralph, wake up, somebody is knocking on the door!” His eyes opened. He wasn’t smiling.
            “Huh?” Ralph sat up. He rubbed his face. He listened. He determined that Ramona was correct. Some rash character was knocking on his door in the middle of the night.
            All eight feet and five hundred pounds of Ralph got out of the big wooden bed and padded to the door. No fumbling around and asking, “who’s there?” He just opened it. Yeah, there was somebody there alright.
            Looking scrawny, disheveled and smelling bad, there was Maurice. In the light from the sky Ralph could see a sad twinkle in Maurice’s eyes. This was obviously going to take some time.
            “Hey Ramona, it’s just Maurice, I’ll be back later,” whispered Ralph slipping out and shutting the door. You will notice that he didn’t ask Maurice in.
            “Hey, Maurice, what’s up,” said Ralph. “Why are you here in the middle of the night? You woke Ramona up and that means you woke me up.”
            “Aw, Ralph. They fired me. They still think I ate that cat.” Maurice sounded like he hadn’t spoken in days. His corduroy britches were gone and his shirt too. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t know where else to go. Jeez, there are millions of cats!”
            “Let’s go stir up the fire and sit over there,” said Ralph, heading for the stone circle. He got some pieces of broken branches that Ramona had put there for morning, stirred around in the ashes until he found a few coals still red, and laid in the pieces. Soon the fire woke up, providing some light and a focus for guys sitting up late and talking.
            “It’s over a hundred miles to Tacoma. How did you get here? You look like hell by the way, Maurice.”
            “They took my outfit,” mumbled Maurice.    
            “Yeah, that figures, how did you get here,” asked Ralph again, as they took seats on the convenient fireside logs.
            “I walked sometimes, usually at night. I laid low in the daytime. Once I slept behind a grocery store in their dumpster. The other day I crashed up under a bridge with some boxes pulled over me. Sometimes I hung onto the back bumper of a truck. Man, that freaks people out when they see me there. It only took a couple of days.”
            “I’m hungry.  You got any, like, bones laying around here?” said Maurice hopefully. “What does Ramona do with leftovers, man?”
            “Hang on, I’ll get you some duck. It’s inside. Right back,” said Ralph. “Any bones and stuff she gives to the pumas to mess around with.”
            When he got back, he had a duck prepared for cooking in his big hand. It had been a while since Ralph had eaten raw meat, but he knew it would be just fine with Maurice, the Ozark Monster, as was. Maurice had even been known to eat roadkill.
            “What are you going to do next,” asked Ralph, watching Maurice chomp down the raw duck, including the bones.
            Maurice cleaned his toothy muzzle with his long red tongue and sighed. “Aw, shoot, I dunno.  I’d like to get another gig singing. You’d be surprised how hard that is…”
            “You scare people Maurice,” said Ralph. “That might work for one of those hard screaming type bands, I can’t think of one, you know what I mean.”
            “I’m just kind of discouraged Ralph. Life as a monster isn’t all like in the movies, with crazy fun and hauling off the babes and all that cool stuff.  It’s just hard to make a living,” groaned Maurice. “I thought maybe you could think of something I could do.”
            “Oh, you just need to have some cryptid type fun. It’s a sure cure for the Kozmik Blues,” giggled Ralph, waking up for real and feeling more like his amiable old self. “Tell you what, dude. I know where there is a bunch of newbie Bigfoot hunters camped, just over the hill and by the river. I think we should visit them and give them some of what they are hoping for! Contact!
            “Then you’ll feel more like scaring up a job of some kind,” said Ralph, enjoying his little joke, which Maurice didn’t notice anyhow.
            “Sure! Gosh, thanks Ralph!  That sounds good! Let’s go,” yelped Maurice.
            It was still the dead dark of the night when they set out on their journey.  There was just a little of that ghostly light from the sky allowing them to see their way. Ralph didn’t need much light anyhow and Maurice was pretty much a creature of the night already.
            The walk took about an hour.  It was further than Ralph had said. He’s like that. Anyhow, when they got to the camp they stayed back in the cover of the trees and underbrush, just scoping the scene.
            There were five campers. A couple asleep in their RV. There was a young guy in a sleeping bag near a small fire. One couple were in a tent, also near the fire. How did the boys know who was in the tent or the RV?  Well, Ralph has some uncanny skills.  He can kind of hear stuff through walls, etc. That’s how he learned to speak English.
            “Now, watch what they do,” whispered Ralph to Maurice. Then he sucked in a mighty breath and made a shriek like a dying banshee, dwindling down to a gruesome moan.
            The guy in the sleeping bag sat up. A man staggered out of the tent, goggling at the trees. An old woman opened the door of the RV and stuck her head out.
            Ralph blew a noise like a moody elk.  Then he chattered like an Asian madman on speed.
            Soon the Bigfoot hunters were fumbling with sound equipment and hooting at the woods for all they were worth. The cacophony was marvelous to behold!
            Ralph tossed a grapefruit sized rock in by the fire. Then he and Maurice moved so nobody would follow the trajectory back to them.  They were having a tough time not laughing.
            “Okay, now watch what they do,” hissed Ralph. He stood up and made a sound like somebody slamming a huge hunk of log into a tree.  He knew that Squatch hunters just dote on that effect.  So, he did his best for them. His decibel level was tremendous.
            And just as truly as like calls to like, the two younger men were soon manfully pounding away on a couple of trees with some largish windfall. Ralph had Maurice do some bloodcurdling howling for a grand finale, then they split. Return howling echoed in their ears as they walked away.
            They trudged happily back toward the home clearing just as the sun was starting to come up. Ralph was a little sleepy, but Maurice looked much happier, as Ralph knew he would.
            “Hey, Ralph, it’s been fun!  But I gotta book it outta the woods. Stuff to do man! Stuff! To! Do!”
            “Yeah, ok, Maurice. Stay out of trouble.” And Ralph rumbled his way, laughing, back to Ramona, some breakfast and a good long nap.

Sunday Drive and Open Thread

 

            It’s pleasant to think about, isn’t it?  Just rolling ‘cause you have to roll. Hat tip Tom Petty, of course. We’re Americans of a certain era, more or less, and we are citizens of a mobile, questing nature. Even if we know the area well, we just want to see what’s there, what’s going on today. Or maybe if it’s unknow territory, why that’s the best of all. Just going to take a look.

          And we enjoy modern vehicles.  They do a great job. But, something is lost too. Some of adventure is gone in the hygienic experience of driving one of those computerized jobs. Why not just go limp and let the thing drive itself?
          I think fondly of the beaters of the past. The 1949 Buick! The little Renault 4CV! The Opel! The Pink Rambler with the silver topside, hand painted of course.
          Was it the drive, the moving picture we loved, or the machine? Some combination? I bet a lot of it was the sharing of the experience.  No reason to talk, really.  No particular destination, maybe, maybe not.
          And the AM radio station was our friend, unless we were out of range and then there was the Outer Limits-like experience of hearing the static come over the radio.
          It would be fun to hear what you all have to say about long drives, old cars, the dreamlike quality of it all.

Mine wasn't this nice! There was a fashion for knocking the grill out and painting the "mouth" red. I, um, did that too! Ah, but the experience of driving that tank! 

The one I loved the best. It got 40+ miles to the gallon and gas was about 29 cents!!

Saturday Health Tip... Barefootin'

👣 🌎

As we are learning more and more each day about the nuts and bolts of transhumanism and nanotechnology, we're reminded that sometimes the most effective remedies for life's problems are the simplest.



Mother Ann Lee, founder of the Shakers, came up with the saying:  "Put your hands to work, and give your hearts to God." Well, perhaps we could rephrase that wisdom to fit our situation in today's nanotech world.  How about this?: "Put your feet to the Earth, and return your minds to God."



Staying connected to the Earth is old news, but here's a brief refresher and explanation of the concept:



The synthetic biology nanotechnologies currently self-assembling in everyone's blood, and indeed even diseases themselves, both physical and mental, gather electrical energy to manifest and grow, in part, from the EMF radiation constantly bombarding us and being absorbed by our bodies. 



Rubber soled shoes act as an electrical insulator, and wearing them breaks the natural bond our feet have with the ground, which is needed for optimal human health. Consider for a moment that wearing shoes can make us more vulnerable to outside forces and possible electromagnetic enslavement, and that being un-grounded is what allows the circuitry of our bodies and minds to be hijacked. We become somewhat like captured and tamed animals, removed from nature and detained by a kind of unnatural energy that binds our brains to the artificial intelligence cloud. 

Being insulated from the ground means we are unable to discharge the accumulated energy that is powering the nanotechnology within us. In this state, we are no longer our true selves and the ability to attain a higher level of consciousness is blocked. But removing our shoes opens the pathway whereby energy can be transferred from our bodies, and healing, regenerative energy may again be received from the Earth, through our feet.

~

Our skin, particularly the soles of our feet, acts as a conductor, allowing electrons to flow between our bodies and the ground. This process, known as grounding or earthing, has been shown to have several beneficial effects. Research suggests that the exchange of electrons can neutralize free radicals, reducing oxidative stress and inflammation, two underlying factors in many chronic diseases.  —Science of Going Barefoot

~



So, in light of this information, unpack your feet. Go barefoot for a couple hours each day, and reconnect directly with Mother Earth and be free. Hug a tree, a boulder, an animal, or a barefooted loved one while you're at it and double the re-energizing, therapeutic fun inherent to God's creation. Have a great day!



~

Create in me a clean heart, O God; And renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from thy presence; And take not thy holy spirit from me. Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation; And uphold me with thy free spirit. —Psalms 51:10-12

~

Our resident Bigfoot, Ralph himself, approves of this message. 

(Art by Charles Guthrie)

👣 🌎

✯

The Marvelous Medicinal Cat

 

🤍ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ🤍

 

I’ll sing you a tale, but it won’t take long.

Of the marvelous medicinal cat.

His powers are legion, he’s goodly and strong.

His heart is good as they get!

 

When trouble is offing he’s there in a flash,

To succor and cosset and purr.

His vibrations are mighty and brash!

Yes, it’s Willie, by his tail and his fur.

 

So, thank you good Willie, amen.

An angel of mercy for sure.

For a heart that is breaking, or a head that is aching,

He’s a sure and certain cure!

 

A creature of virtue, here in my arms,

Doing the best that he can,

To lighten the load of all harms,

Which bedevil a woman or man.

 

We should all do as well as a cat!

Is This Goodbye?

 

          It is strange to remember that I had no possessions, nothing to take with me if I left my home with Jula and Hofel and the others.  I had my fur lined dress which was made like a simple tunic, and I had my little skin boots. I had no toys, nor tools. I was equipped as nearly like an animal as a human being can be who is not utterly naked.

            If the Nomads adopted me I would be coming to them as nearly bare as a newborn child of their own. I had no awareness of my own poverty. Even clothing was newfound and luxurious to me. But I would be coming to them full up with love.
            I really have no idea how old I was truly, but I think I must have been between three and four years old.  I was small for my age I believe.  So, Jula was still tucking me into my basket at night as if I were a baby, and of course to one her size, I was a very small baby!
            That night I asked her about her own children. I wondered where they were. I said, “Jula, did you have children before?”  She looked a little surprised, but smiled and said, “yes, dear, I had three children.”          
            “But where are they Jula?” I wondered aloud.
            “They grew up Soosha. Then they left me. Two were girls, who found fathers for their children. One was a boy. He is with a band further north from here. He found a mother for his children in that family band. I talk to all of them, but not face to face, dear heart.”
            “Do you still love them Jula?” I asked her.
            “Yes, I love them Soosha. They mean life to me. They are in my heart when I breathe, when I eat, or work or walk. Always there. When I open my eyes in the morning, I think of them. I think of you too. To be a mother means to always think of the children. A mother is never alone in her thoughts,” she said softly. “They are the last thing in my mind when I close my eyes to sleep.”
            I think of her standing there, at her great height, as the sky darkened, and night fell on our mountain. She was a tall dark figure, soft and brown and very dear to me. Perhaps a tear fell.  I am not sure. But I do know that she took a wild little human creature and taught her to speak and to be truly human. Nothing that happened in the future could ever change or take away what she had done for me.
            “Jula, why did you love me,” I asked as I became sleepy lying in my fur lined nest. “I didn’t come to you like your children did.”
            “I loved you because you needed to be loved. I loved you because love is why I live,” she said.  I didn’t understand at the time.  But I recall what she said.
            “Do children always leave,” I asked.
            “Almost always,” she said. “But Hofel and the others are here, and that is a very good thing, isn’t it my dear?”
            “Yes, Jula,” I said.
            As usual, night passed without my awareness of its passing. When I opened my eyes the sun was just lightening the sky. I lay in comfort listening to the first morning birdcalls, and wondering what the day would bring.
            That morning, after a little breakfast of cold meat and a drink of water, Jula and I prepared to walk to the river camp again.  Each person in our band held me for a moment because they didn’t know if I would come back or not. I didn’t know either and it seemed like a serious time for all of us. Put kissed me on top of my head. She cried a little.
            As we walked away, I looked back at the forest camp. The stone floor, the mighty trees close together, and the figures of those I loved watching us as we left. It was an image that stayed with me always. It was not the last time I saw them, but this was the picture in my mind when I thought of them.
            There was still fog over the river and the meadow as we approached the Nomad tipis. The black and white dog ran out to us, barking and wagging his tail.  It seemed like a fine welcome and a very good sign.

  

All 7101 words.

A Cross Cultural Approachment

 

            The men had gone hunting on foot, leaving the four horses there at camp. They didn’t go on horseback because they were after deer.  So, only women and children were present that day at the Nomad camp. There was a black and white dog too.  I had never seen a dog before, though it was similar to the wolves in a general way.
            The dog came around the first tipi with his head low to the ground and when he saw Jula, he began barking. I think he was just surprised to see us there with Wachiwi and her daughter. Perhaps he thought they were in danger. She gave him a sharp command and he lay down on the grass between us and them, keeping an eye on us, but quietly.
            The barking must have alerted everyone else because three more women, including one very old one, and three more children gathered in a small crowd behind Wachiwi where she sat. None of them seemed frightened by Jula, but their eyes were wide open.  We were definitely the day’s entertainment.
            Jula began to speak in what I learned later was a trade language that all people, Human, Nomad, or our Forest band, in the area knew. Here is what she said.
            “I greet you, in the peace of the Creator, Maker of all.”
            The group facing us smiled and nodded, some a little, some a lot. Many broad faces, with black eyes and darker skin than mine listened carefully.
            “There is a reason for our visit today. As you can see, I have a Human child with me.  For a year my band and I have cared for her, after she was found with the wolves, who in fact, saved her life when she was an infant. You see, her family died in the plague that came through our mountains a few years ago, leaving her alone, but still alive. Mother Wolf must have carried her to her own den.
            “Hofel, who is mine, found her and brought her to me. When she came she did not know any speech except the name she had given the Mother Wolf, Fila. She was dirty and thin, but I know that Fila tried very hard to keep her alive.  We are thankful to her for that. It is a testament to her love and good character.
            “As you can see, she is a good little person, and she is pretty too. See how well she sits and attends to things.  No crazy running and shouting from this one! She speaks our language and has learned many things that a Human must know. She knows a bit about cooking and is clean about herself.
            “It is my belief that she has need of a Human family, in addition to my band up in the mountain there above us. We will never forsake her, but she needs to be with Humans, for she is Human. She has lost so very much in her short life. Perhaps if we spent some time together today, you might come to love her, almost as one of your own eventually. Perhaps we can come to know you too, and maybe something good can come of it.
            “Her name is Soosha,” said Jula. “I am Jula.”
            Then she waited for a reaction from the people gathered before us, as the sun moved up overhead, the river ran sibilantly by, the horses breathed heavily, birds made long calls between themselves, and the black and white dog watched all.
            I waited also. Though at the time I couldn’t follow what she said. Jula repeated the conversation to me that night.
            Wachiwi rose to her feet in one smooth motion, having set her daughter off her lap. She knelt before me on the blanket and looked into my blue eyes, and at my hands, so much whiter than her own. She examined my dress, which was rather plain to tell the truth. She felt my hair. I looked into her dark eyes and saw a laugh there that had not emerged yet.
            To Jula, she said, “I can see that she is a pretty little girl, that she is clean and not wild.” She laughed a little then. “Perhaps she could learn a little bit of wildness from our children.  She seems a little too quiet.”
            “The Mother Wolf taught her to make no noise, and she learned that lesson very well.  She will speak if spoken to. She would have to learn another language of course. But that can be done,” Jula told Wachiwi.
            That lady said, “why don’t we walk around our camp. You can see how we live. She can see if it looks good to her.”
            That’s what we did.  I looked into the tipis. Jula held back a little to watch how it went. I met the children. There were two boys, both older than I. The two girls were closer in age to me. We smiled, and laughed, but we didn’t have any words in common yet.
            The day wore on.  Jula and the four women talked in their pidgin talk about all things that pertained to a possible new home for me. I was utterly charmed to see people so much like myself. This was extremely attractive to me.  And the children! I had never met another small child.  Put, was nearly grown. Not like another small child.
            The men, three of them and a teenaged boy came home. They didn’t have a deer, but they had rabbits and pheasants. So, they would go out again tomorrow, but in the meantime, they met Jula and me.  They laughed. One father said that he knew the Forest People were there but had never seen them.
            My story was told again.  The three fathers seemed happy to meet me, but the one who seemed to be in charge and was Wachiwi’s man said that the decision was hers and mine!  He would live with her decision, and mine.
            The work of the evening began. Fires were lit.  Cooking was started. The Nomad camp became rather busy preparing for dinner and night.
            Jula said that it was time for us to go back to our camp. She told Wachiwi that we would go home and talk and then visit them again soon. So we started back across the meadow, into the trees and up the path into the deep woods.  She picked me up and carried me then, just to get home faster. 
            When we arrived home, we found that Hofel had caught a wild pig and that Osa was roasting it, which takes a lot longer than roasting trout, but she had put it over the fire some time ago. Put had gone looking for berries at the tree line and found enough blackberries to fill a small basket.
            Jula and Hofel and I sat together waiting for dinner. It had been a good day. A day of surprises.  I was sleepy, but hungry for dinner, and very excited to see the Humans again.  I wanted very much to learn to speak with them, to know their names and all about them.
            Jula looked at me, with a slightly different expression than I had seen before. Maybe there was a trace of sadness in her eyes.

All of it so far.

A Light Among The Trees

 

 
            All the rest of that day I looked with new eyes at my beloved forest family. I noticed anew their long silky coats and their great size, compared to the Nomads which we had peeked at. I stroked my own arm, for the first time realizing the extent of our differences. I followed Jula around camp as she worked, moving here and there, just hanging on to her soft hair at about knee level.
            While I followed her I asked her questions. “Jula, what does human mean?”
            “Humans are people. Not like us. They are smaller, mostly hairless and come in many colors and sizes. There are more of them than you could ever count. They are one kind of people.  There are others,” she said.
            “Jula, where did I come from?” All that I knew of my past was Fila’s den.  I had no idea of how I had gotten there. “Did I come from those people by the river?”
            “No, no. Let’s sit and talk, Soosha,” she said, taking a seat by the fire, drawing me along too.
            “Once, a few years ago, a family lived over on the next mountain side. The father was a hunter and a woodcutter. The mother made beautiful things at home and cared for the family in all ways. There was a boy child and a girl who was a baby. A time of sickness came to the human people on our mountains.  People just lay down and didn’t rise again.  We, that is our band here, looked among them and saw no one left alive. It seemed that all the humans had died in their beds, or even out walking in the forest.  We saw no survivors. But we missed one.
            “Now the Wolf Mother has very sharp ears, and a very soft heart. She heard crying one day. The sound must have been coming out of a kind of den that human people make with wood and other things.  This is where your family was living Soosha. This place is not very far from where we sit right now.  You had a father and a mother and brother. They perished of the infection, but you lived and were left alone there. No doubt Mother Wolf could not bear to hear your cries, and go on her way without helping you.
            “She could not tell Hofel, when he found you in her den, how it was that you were there with her children.  But I think we can guess pretty well. This is what I believe happened. She heard you crying, she went into the human den, and she carried you to her den by the clothing that you wore. There, she cared for you until Hofel saw you with the wolf children.” 
            Do tiny children grieve? Is it possible to grieve the unknown, the never to be known? I know that I wept with my face buried in Jula’s bosom.  Because as I said at the beginning of my story, I knew that everyone, each creature is born to a mother and a father.  And I knew that I would never know mine, but that I had come into the world the same way that all living creatures do. It was truth, but it was sad also.
            “Little one,” she said, “it’s true that your family have entered eternity and you have not. But listen. There are other human people.  If we search for the right ones, we can find you a family of people who are like you. They will love you just like we do, and you will understand each other.
            “Those Nomads down in the valley know of us in the mountain. They tell each other stories about us, and some of those stories are true! Let’s go down there again and talk with them tomorrow.  This time we won’t hide,” she laughed.
            I was still sleeping in the basket nest that Hofel had woven for me, and Jula had lined with soft furs. My nest was close to theirs. Theirs was quite large with a shelter built over it, which sheltered me too.  At night I was close enough to have the homely comfort of hearing Hofel snoring. Sometimes he woke me in the night with his snoring. 
            Deep in the dark of that very night something did awaken me.  I saw a bright light moving through the trees at about head height. It was as if the moon had come down and was searching the surface of the earth for something. It wasn’t just a light either. There was some kind of object enclosing the light. I had no way to understand what I was seeing. It seemed unreal.  But as I dropped off to sleep again I thought I heard Jula’s voice say, “yes, she is here.  She is safe.”
            In the excitement of the trip to the valley and meeting the Nomad family, I forgot all about the confusing nighttime impressions. I was scrubbed and recombed and braided when we started downhill on the familiar path out of the forest and onto the open meadow. The land was almost level as we neared the river.
            I held Jula’s hand tightly as we neared the first dwelling.  I was excited but held back out of shyness too. I remember hearing the river run, and being close to the horses, which were fantastic looking to me. So tall, looking at me with big brown eyes.
            Suddenly, a flap of the hide coving the entrance to the first structure popped open and a woman in a skin dress stepped out. She had a wide dark skinned face, looked a little startled, but then smiled. I remember that her eyes nearly squinted shut, she was smiling that hard! And I remember that her dress was decorated with complex bead patterns and that her shoes were very much like mine.
            Jula spoke some words in a language that I had never heard her use before, and the woman spoke back. The woman went back inside and came right back out with a blanket which she spread on the grass. Then she got another and spread it also. More words were spoken between them, and we all sat.  We had to visit outside because Jula was much too big to go into the hide covered structure.
            A small girl, but taller than me, came out to see what was happening, then sat in her mother’s lap. She was dressed nearly the same as I was. She was almost too shy to look at us.  I will admit we must have been quite a surprise showing up as we did, out of nowhere. Looking back, I try to picture the scene.  A very large forest woman covered in hair and a little kid who didn’t match either the Forest People or the Nomads.

The story so far.

A Revelation

 

🌟

 
            Looking back, I believe I lived with this band of the Forest People for just about a full year before the events of this day. These kind people remained visible and solid to my eyes for that whole year. I think it was out of an excess of kindness, for the sake of one lost human child.  In that whole year I saw nothing but amiable faces and felt nothing but gentle hands. I was surrounded in an environment of tenderness, and I grew strong in their care.
            In that year I learned to speak with them in their language, as far as I was able to perceive it.  I didn’t know that I was human.  I’m not sure I ever wondered what I was.  By then, I was sure I wasn’t a wolf, not even a strange looking two legged one. Perhaps if I had been asked I would have said I was Jula’s child. I had become her child in all ways that mattered to me.
            As my language improved, we were able to communicate on deeper levels. She taught me how to do small practical tasks. I helped her with cooking, though she didn’t really need help.  I needed teaching. She and I also worked together at making me some clothing out of deer hides and we got better at it.
            One morning as Jula and I were preparing fish for a morning meal for the band, she said, “Soosha, I would like take you for a walk and show you something very important. I think after everyone eats we’ll go.” Of course, I had no idea what she meant, but I was willing as always.
            She had a way of threading fish that I later learned were trout on green saplings in such a way that they didn’t fall off into the fire, by going in the mouth and out both gills with small branchings. They didn’t need to cook long at all, so soon everyone gathered around the fire to have some fish. I should mention that there were six in this band, plus me. Jula and Hofel, Put and her mom, named Leen, a young guy named Tiv and his wife, Osa. I think Tiv did most of the fishing. It takes practiced youthful reflexes to hand fish trout.
            When they were done eating they threw their green branches into the fire and the cleanup was done!
            Jula said to her family, “Soosha and I are going for a walk today. I see that there is a Nomad band traveling through the valley below. They are human, and she needs to see them and their way of life.” Five sweet faces nodded a little sadly. I was still quite young, so I didn’t think to wonder why. I was just excited to be going for a walk with Jula. She and I had stayed almost entirely in camp for all of the time I had been with them. The others came and went.
            We held hands, though it was a real stretch for me to reach her hand. We headed downhill. The stream where Tiv fished and where the Nomad band was camped was in a little valley not too far away from out home camp. I was as quiet as Fila had taught me to be. Jula moved silently also down a narrow path, with brush pushing in from either side. As the path continued the nature of the forest changed.  We came out of the huge firs and entered a lighter area with maples and alders and various lower brushy plants. But we stayed under cover as we approached the camp by the stream.
            Looking downhill, I saw four round structures covered in hides, built on frameworks of long poles. They were decorated with painted figures, looking very exciting to my innocent eyes. I saw four horses tied out and grazing with their tails swishing back and forth. At last, I saw a woman, and then a man. They were clothed in skin garments and were hairless except for their heads. I turned to Jula in amazement.
            “I want you to look at the Nomad camp Soosha. I know you see the people. I know that you see that they don’t have a coat of hair as I do. Do you know what that means Soosha?” she asked me so softly. “They are human people, like you little one.”
            If you could have seen us, we would have presented a strange sight I think. Jula had sat herself down on the grass just out of sight of the people down below, behind a convenient growth of wild roses, and I, a tiny human in a skin dress and moccasins, sat on her knee looking intently upon the riverside camp.
            “One day, maybe tomorrow, you and I will go talk to these people. We will find out all about them. Perhaps we can all be friends,” she said as she got to her feet, picked me up, and started walking back up to our own place.
            It’s hard to explain. But I was not frightened. I was intrigued. I had never, since Fila rescued me, seen a smooth skinned person. I couldn’t help but notice that I was a smooth skinned person myself. Like calls to like, they say, but I hadn’t considered yet what it might mean.

All four little chapters.

I Had A Funny Idea Last Night

 

So Fancy!

Usually ends up more like this.

 

            I was thinking yesterday that it’s that time of year. A drowsy warm time. One is not excessively energetic. Summer surely is holding its breath!

            And what do rational people like to do on a sleepy, warm day?  Why, a picnic, of course! Think of it. In our musings we can have any kind of Sunday picnic that suggests itself.

            Location must be the first thing to consider. Beach? Forest park? Townsquare? Pasture?  What do you think? Your own backyard? Around here we usually end up at the beach.

            I thought that maybe it would be fun if we described what we would like to bring to a picnic.  It doesn’t have to be food or drink.  It could be some kind of game.  Or even a song.  Do you have a tuba? A pet! Would you bring some historical or imaginary character? I wonder what would happen!

            As a matter of conjecture, who would you like to invite?

            Well, as you will have surmised by now, this is a thinly disguised attempt to peek into your imaginations!

A glorious Sunday to you!

This is a historic day,

Utterly full of mystery and magic.

If we so wish it.

🤍

I Take My Place Among The Forest People

 

🍂🤍🍁

            I awoke in my basket nest next morning feeling much better than the morning before. When I sat up and looked out I could see that I was not alone with Jula this morning.  Hofel was sitting by the fire speaking expansively with many wide gestures to a group of others. All of them were laughing and smiling, and if I had known, trying to best his story with one of their own.

            Since I had been living with the wolves, these flowing coats of beautiful hair in various shades of brown and black didn’t surprise me at all.
            When Jula noticed that I was awake she spoke to four of the others at the fire and they all walked over to my nest. As they approached I saw that three of the four were grown women of the Forest People, and one was a young girl.   
            “What do you have here Jula?  You said she was small but she’s like a little bird in that nest!,” said one Mother. The young one looked on very curiously. She said, “Put,” and patted her chest.  I said “Put,” and reached out and patted her chest. This gave her the giggles.  She patted my chest and said “Soosha!” then laughed.
            The others laughed. Everyone was smiling. I bounced to my feet and said, “Soosha!”  Then they really laughed. This story was told to me when I was older and could speak and understand their language.
            “She already knows how to introduce herself,” said Jula with a little grin.
            “She has no one to go to,” said Jula. “Mother Wolf kept her in her den until Hofel found her two days ago. It is most well that he saw her, for her sake. I don’t think Mother Wolf could have kept her much longer, through the winter.
            “I think someday when she is a little bigger and stronger and can speak, we must find her some humans to join.  We must do this very carefully. Not all humans have the same virtues, and Hofel and I have come to love her.
            “The next thing she needs is something to cover herself with.  Her body is unoffensive of course, but she will be too cold without garments of some kind,” she said to the others, who looked concerned and nodded. “My idea is to take a soft doe skin and cut it into a robe and put in sleeves, with the fur on the inside. Then I will make shoes in the manner of the nomads.
            “She is so small and vulnerable,” said Jula. “So, I will be sewing today.”
            How Jula made my first robe was more like lacing than sewing. She punched a row of holes alone the edges of the skin pieces she had cut and the drew long leather lacings through the holes in a kind of large whip stitch. It was a little rough in design, but it was warm and furry on the inside. It wasn’t a very big job, because I was so small. Later the same day she made little boots that laced up to my knees.
            You’ve seen how cats or dogs act if a person puts shoes on them for some reason.  That was me. I found it hard to walk.  I kept picking my feet up and looking at them. The furry robe got in my way, but I loved Jula, so I didn’t cry.  I sat very still on one of the stones by the fire. I was as still as I could be, just like Fila had taught me. It was the best way I knew to be a good child.
            I was learning words. I knew fire, meat, fur, nest, mother, father, girl, tree, water, and some others of course, not as well.  I knew a few names.  Hofel. Jula. Put. Over time of course I learned the names of the whole band of the people.
            The day that Jula decided that my hair must be dealt with stands out. My hair was long, curly and matted.  She had washed it, but it was a terrible mess. As it happens, forest people comb their hair, well the women do more than the men. So, Jula had combs of varying fineness. She called me to where she was sitting on a stone by the fire and said, “Soosha, I must comb your hair and braid it.  This will be hard for you.  Will you be a brave girl?”
            I could hear the question in her voice. So, I waited to see what would happen. She said, “this is a comb for your hair.” She stroked my hair and said the word to show me what she was talking about.  Then she took the comb and started working in my hair starting at the tips and working up into the tangled bulk of it. It hurt. But I loved her, so I held still. It took quite a long time. When it was combed out I think we were both tired.
            She said, “I’m nearly done Soosha. I will make braids, so your hair doesn’t get so messy again.” Then she braided two long plaits of my hair and tied the ends off with some long fiber. I had never felt so sleek and clean.
            You may wonder why she didn’t take her obsidian knife and just cut most of it off. I suppose it has to do with the fact that the forest people do not cut their hair, but also, she didn’t want to frighten me or make me think that part of me was bad in her eyes. 
            When she was all done with my hair she called out to Hofel and Put to come and see how nice I looked. She put me on her knee to display her handywork.
            Hofel rumbled his laugh when he saw me, telling me that I was, “a pretty little bird.”
            Put came to admire me also; she picked me up and hugged me and told me I “looked so much better!”
            But it was to Jula’s lap that I retired to hide my tiredness and confusion. She was like the whole earth to me. I buried my face in her coat and held on tightly until it was time to climb into my basket nest for the night.
            I remember that as I drifted off to sleep that night, I was full of love and much unaccustomed peace, accompanied by a full belly, in much comfort.

All of it so far!