All Watched Over By Machines Of Loving Grace

 

I like to think (and
the sooner the better!)
of a cybernetic meadow
where mammals and computers
live together in mutually
programming harmony
like pure water
touching clear sky.

I like to think
(right now, please!)
of a cybernetic forest
filled with pines and electronics
where deer stroll peacefully
past computers
as if they were flowers
with spinning blossoms.

I like to think
(it has to be!)
of a cybernetic ecology
where we are free of our labors
and joined back to nature,
returned to our mammal
brothers and sisters,
and all watched over
by machines of loving grace.

Richard Brautigan

Photo by Vernon Merritt III/The LIFE Picture Collection via Getty Images

        Richard Brautigan was born in Tacoma, Washington. He had a difficult childhood, and he did not attend college. When he was in his 20s, he moved to San Francisco, California. Robert Novak wrote in Dictionary of Literary Biography that “Brautigan is commonly seen as the bridge between the Beat Movement of the 1950s and the youth revolution of the 1960s.” A so-called guru of Sixties counterculture, Brautigan wrote of nature, life, and emotion; his unique imagination provided the unusual settings for his themes. Critics frequently compared his work to that of such writers as Henry David Thoreau, Ernest Hemingway, Donald Barthelme, and Mark Twain. Considered by most critics to be his best novel, Trout Fishing in America (written in 1961 but not published until 1967) established Brautigan as a major force in the mainstream literary scene. His novel In Watermelon Sugar (1968) was also widely celebrated. Brautigan is the author of the poetry collections June 30th, June 30th (1978), Loading Mercury with a Pitchfork (1975), The Pill Versus the Springhill Mine Disaster (1968), Rommel Drives on Deep Into Egypt (1970), and The San Francisco Weather Report (1969), among others.

※

        In case you wonder what brought this poem to mind, it was Mike Adams at Brighteon University. 

        
How AI Technology Can Make BAD Government OBSOLETE!

January 30, 2026 Open Thread

 The Forest Is Forever

It Was Darn Near 58 Years Later

             Since I spent my working time yesterday editing and formatting, I thought, once again, that I would repost a chapter from the new book, tentatively called Everybody Loves Ralph. It should be available in February, or March. But I don't think it will take that long.

«««»»»

           The director certainly had a bee in his bonnet or a flea in his ear, to indulge in a couple of adorable Americanisms.
            He had been hearing about the old Patterson-Gimlin film of the mythical Bigfoot since childhood. And he was amused by the fact that Americans still clung to this particular piece of folklore as if it were somehow factual. Sure, the biggest economy in the world, a tremendous landmass, but some of the most guileless people on earth too!
           It occurred to the old dear that to send Trevor and I to the best known hot spot, the nexus, of the whole relic hominid story, Washington State’s woodsy west side, to expose the foolishness of the whole thing, would be  a wonderful send up of the old story. And it might just put paid to the whole thing, since the Beeb still has buckets of credibility, even with the credulous.

            And so it came to pass, that Trevor Smythe, boy reporter, and I, Claudia LaMotta, a real pro, as these same Americans like to say, found ourselves on a British Airways flight to Seattle. We landed, tired and feeling long-flight scruffy late in the afternoon. We got through Customs with no difficulty, gathered our bags at the carousel, and went in search of a room and a car rental. Of course we hadn't checked our backpacks full of precious electronic equipage. Those we had kept in the overhead compartments in the plane.
            Trevor had driven in countries where one drove on the right side before, so he was elected to be James. We ended up with a rather large Mercury. Trevor crept out of the car lot hesitantly, just getting the hang of the thing before seriously entering Seattle traffic, which, by the way, is horrific.
            Since our goal was much to the north, we decided to seek a couple of rooms for the night in a small city nearer to our destination. Lynnwood looked like it would do, so Lynnwood it was.
            Like so many things in America this place was on a large scale. But it was shelter, and an adequate breakfast was included.
            All fresh and beamish in the morning, Trevor and I gathered up all, and set out once more in the mighty Mercury. Soon we were on the motorway and on our way. 
            The further north we drove, the smaller the towns became and the larger the forests grew. We continued on, leaving the freeway for a smaller highway. The GPS was taking us into the Cascade Range of mountains. Soon the landscape looked wild and unpopulated.
            Our first stop was a certain Ranger Station of the Forest Service in a huge parcel of forested land known as the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie National Forest.
            I began to feel as if our director had given us quite a lot to accomplish. Things didn’t seem so quaintly amusing once traveling through this wilderness. A send up of the Americans had seemed like an easy and amusing project back in the comfort of London while sitting around the director’s desk.
            The Ranger Station proved to be a quite small official looking building at the end of a lesser paved road which diverged from the highway. It huddled in among tremendously tall and stout evergreen trees. There was a small paved parking lot abutting that phenomenal forest.
            I looked over at Trevor, and suddenly he looked wildly out of his element. I wondered where that notion had come from. He was the same stocky young fellow I had known since he started working in the same office with me, but maybe it was the expression on his face more than anything else. He looked more hesitant than I had ever seen him look.
            “Well, Trevor, I suppose we must press on,” I said. He nodded.
            “Claudia, I’m apprehensive about this whole thing,” said Trevor. I nodded.
            But we exited the big white Mercury to make our first contact, the ranger in the office, if  he was there, rangers being rangers who range around and all of that. There was a man sitting behind the desk poking at a laptop computer. If anything he seemed glad of a distraction.
            “Hi, I’m Rick,” he said. “What can I help you with?”
            “Hullo, Rick,” I said. “We’re on assignment from the BBC. We’ve been sent here to locate and document the elusive American Bigfoot. Apparently, this is the place to start looking!
            “Oh, this is my cameraman, Trevor Smythe and I am Claudia LaMotta.”
            Sometimes one must prevaricate a bit to get the story. Yes?
            “Ma’am, Ms. LaMotta, I’m afraid somebody sold you nice people a bill of goods. There are no Bigfoots here. In fact, there is probably no such creature, here or anywhere else.”
            I took a few moments to recalibrate. This was not the attitude we had expected to meet. We had expected rather a lot of enthusiasm instead of this blank denial.
            “I understand an official statement when I hear one, Rick. No problem. According to our information, this is the place to look. Is there any official or legal reason that we shouldn’t explore the forest here round about?” I countered.
            “No, Ma’am, there is no reason that you can’t explore the forest as long as you like. And good luck to you,” said the ranger. I remembered that statement later.
            Trevor got his camera ready, and I had my recorder ready. He locked up the Mercury and into the trees we walked. The most traveled looking path seemed to be located by a large trash receptacle. Well, no matter. This was the wild and woolly American west. Like lambs, off we went down the path.
            I walked behind Trevor, so that if he saw anything interesting he could get it in frame quickly. Plus, it was for safety’s sake. After all! There could be bears, or mountain lions here. I was momentarily unhappy that we weren’t armed.
            The nice broad path narrowed almost immediately. Various bushes of unfamiliar types pushed in from the sides of the path. It was pretty scratchy going. There were sounds. I didn’t know what was supposed to be out here, so I wasn’t sure if these soft whispers and whistles and chirps were normal.
            “Are you hearing all of that, Trevor?” I said.
            “Yes. Uh, Claudia, I thought we were supposed to be proving how silly the American believers were. They don’t seem very silly right now. Anything could be out here, including some kind of giants,” muttered my nervous cameraman.
            “Why don’t you just film this whole trek, Trevor? It’s bound to be good for something,” I said, in spite of mounting unease. “I’ll get the sound. Just in case.”
            A sort of mist or fog rose up from the forest floor. We kept walking. There were small sparkles of light in the mist. Do fireflies fly in mist, I wondered. Surely not, but I didn’t know. Soon the vegetation vanished from view. We were almost walking blind.
            But the mist cleared soon and we kept walking. This was better! The path widened. I could see some sunlight among the trees. I kept up with Trevor.
            In a moment we walked back out by the trash receptacle, facing the same parking lot and the rented Mercury. Somehow we had gotten turned around. Well, the day was young, and we could try again. So, we did. We went right back in.
            It looked like a different path. The underbrush diminished to almost nothing. Huge trunks pressed in around us. There wasn’t much sunlight in here. I heard distant laughter, and I thought I got it recorded too. I had become unsure of why Trevor and I were walking this trail. The sense of the project became vague in my mind. My vision and my waking mind were all taken up with the grandeur of this forest. A wonderful dreamlike sensation came over me.
            “Do you feel that, Trevor?” I asked.
            “You mean like being a little high?” he said, and laughed quietly.
            “I guess you could call it that,” I said. And I laughed too, as we toddled along the pretty path among the trees. As we walked a huge black bird flew over. I had to guess it was a raven, but had no idea they were so large.
            At last our walk ended at a huge dead log lying on the forest floor. It seemed special somehow. With what was left of my good sense, I wondered where these ideas were coming from.
            “Are you looking for me?” said a voice so low that it was almost out of my range, but I did hear it. I hoped that my recorder was getting this.
            “Who are you?” said Trevor, as if this were some sort of pantomime joke.
            “I am who you seek,” said the voice, perhaps continuing the joke.
            “How do you know whom we seek?” I said, laughingly.
            “It’s easy to hear your thoughts, Lady,” said the almost sub-audible voice.
            “Alright. That’s fair, I guess. Are you a ghost?” I quizzed the voice.
            “No ghost. Though in a sense I am the spirit of this place. Natives called me one thing, and others have called me various things. My mother named me a name your tongue could not say,” he said.
            “Are you flesh and blood then?” I said.
            “I have flesh and blood. I am not flesh and blood,” he said, sounding rather pleased at the notion. “I will show you, if you can bear it.” He waited for an answer.
            “Yes,” said Trevor. “We can bear truth.”
            “Yes, show us,” I said.
            And there he was. Sitting up on the massive old log, as if it were his sofa. There he was, the end of the search, and the destruction of our project for the Beeb.
            There he was, maybe nine feet tall and so many stone of weight that I had no way of estimating it. He was dark brown, covered except for his face and hands in soft wavy hair. His eyes were brown and twinkled with the elation of joking with us. He looked healthy and strong, but in a way very old. There were many crinkles around his eyes, and he had two white streaks in his beard. The effect was beyond majestic.
            “People just call me Ralph,” he said. I could hear him more clearly then. I don’t know if he was speaking in a slightly higher register or if seeing him helped me to hear him.
            “I decided that I should introduce myself to you. By the way, cameras and sound recorders don’t work out here. I’m sorry. There is no way you can prove you met me. Just the way it is!” said Ralph.
            “Yes, I can see that,” said I.
            “I hope you can salvage something from your trip across the world,” said Ralph.
            “It won’t be the story our director wants, but yes, we can salvage something,” I told him.
            “I’m glad. If you just turn back the way you came you can walk right out of here, with no fog or anything this time,” he said.
            Back at the parking lot, Rick was getting into  his service vehicle, but he stopped first.
            “Did you two find what you were looking for,” he asked.
            “Just a lot of trees,” said I
            “That’s right,” said Rick. “Just a lot of trees. But he was smiling. “Safe trip home, Claudia and Trevor!”
            In the car on the way back to SeaTac, I happened to think of the date. October 20th. I just shook my head.
            “Trevor, I don’t know what we are going to tell the old man. Maybe we’ll both get fired!” I said.
            “Maybe we will,” he admitted.

🍀

Which Trees Exactly

 

 

            Ramona did like the cinnamon rolls. She liked them so much that she started wondering how she could bake on her open fire. It was definitely something to consider. She was thinking that maybe a large metal box or pot to put upside down on her big flat pan would contain enough heat to bake things made of bread dough. But, in the meantime, that day continued in its pleasant round of activities, in the usual way.
            She though many times during the day of Twigg and Leely, of course. She was fully on board with the building project and had some ideas of her own. She had been giving a lot of thought to keeping house inside of a building. It was like a game almost. She would ask herself; now how would I do such and such.
            Ramona also wondered how the time spent in Mak’s world would affect her son and his wife. That was a wide-open question.
            The next morning came. She didn’t cook so much as before with Twigg not present, but she was up first, as early as usual, stirring some oatmeal and raisins when Ralph emerged from the cave, stretching and grinning, happy as a big kid.
            “Today is the day, Mona my love,” he said. “I better go get Ooog out of bed!”
            “I would be very surprised if you found Ooog sleeping, Baby! I believe you will find him up, dressed, fed and ready to go,” said Ramona. “Better have some porridge before you take off, Sir!”
            So, like the very good bear, so to speak, that he was, Ralph had his breakfast of oats and raisins with butter before going to find Ooog.
            As predicted by Ramona, Ooog was ready to go when Ralph got to his door. But, before leaving, they finished off the cinnamon rolls, with big mugs of peppermint tea. Thus, fortified, Ralph and Ooog went out into the early spring morning. It was still pretty chilly, which didn’t bother Ralph one bit, but Ooog was all bundled up with sweater, jacket, leather trousers, wool socks, and hat, and knee length leather moccasins.
            Thaga’s cat, sitting on the stone steps, yawned as they left the house.
            Their breath streamed out in the air as they crunched along through the still snowy tall grass. Every day during the day time more of it melted away, but every night the snow that remained froze up again, so it was still a workout for Ooog. He’s only about 5’4”, so together they presented quite a picture. His braid had grown almost to his knees, so the end was tucked into his jacket pocket.
            Now, out there in the second meadow, near the ancient firs, there was a stand of mature, but rather spindly alders. Twigg had thought to use saplings, but he had been a single young fellow at that point, and not really thinking seriously of housekeeping, with all of its requirements.
            So, Ralph and Ooog decided to take up the design and execution of the tree house.
            “Should it be round or square, Ooog?” said Ralph, while staring at the stand of alders with narrowed eyes, looking for a likely configuration.
            “Well, let’s see what we see here,” said Ooog. “We need a bare space in the middle large enough to live in. I don’t think it matters if it’s round or square or an oval really, Ralph.”
            “That makes sense,” said Ralph.
            So, the guys walked around hmming and squinting at trees, and measuring spaces out with footsteps. Finally, both of them were happy with a certain grouping of trees.
            A dozen alders enclosing a rough oval of space of about twenty feet wide and fifteen feet deep with a wider space toward the east was the group they chose to work with.
            “I think the doorway should face the east, don’t you?” said Ralph.
            “Yes, for the morning light,” said Ooog. Little crinkles formed at the corners of his pale blue eyes. He nodded. Ralph grinned.
            “I’m thinking of a floor made of rocks fit together, with maybe mortar between them, if we can get it smooth enough, or maybe a concrete floor, or maybe just planks,” said Ooog. “What do you think, Ralph?”
            “Maybe we should ask Ramona and Thaga what they think about floors,” said Ralph.
            “Good idea,” said Ooog. “But I think the concrete would be the easiest.”
            “I can see that,” said Ralph. “It would be like smoothing out mud or clay, and that’s not very hard.”
            “What do you want to do first,” said Ooog.
            “Well, we have to convince these trees to gather together at their tops in a nice round dome shape,” said Ralph, already thinking.
            “How do you mean that? Convince these trees?” said Ooog, beginning to get the picture, regardless.
            “I think I can talk them into it. Don’t you? You’ve known me for a long time. Right?” laughed Ralph. “And you can help!”
            They went to each tree, one at a time, and put their hands on its trunk, one high and one low, and Ralph blessed each one separately in the name of the Maker. Even Ooog could feel something stirring. The trees were waking up!
            “Maybe there are Tree Spirits,” Ooog thought to himself.
            Then Ralph and Ooog stood in the middle among the blessed trees and Ralph sang a song called “Grow Together, and Let Your Branches Embrace!”
            “Now, it’s just a matter of time. But I don’t think it will be very long,” said Ralph. “The vision in my mind is of a living wooden structure, round at the top, with all the branches laying in position on the round top, and embracing on the sides, and leafing out that way. You see what I mean. Then as time goes on it will just become tighter and firmer,” said Ralph.
            “I’ll still have to build an internal roof or ceiling I think, because it won’t be rain proof at first,” said Ooog.
            “You’re right, of course,” said Ralph.
            “Let’s go talk to Thaga and Ramona about floors, and see what’s for lunch, don’t you think, Ooog?” said Ralph.
            “Yep,” said Ooog, and with that they began walking back home, with the late morning sun in their eyes.

🌞

Who Goes There; A Repost From 2025

  

He saw Glacier Peak!

            Rather than posting an open thread, I thought it might be fun to post one of the chapters from Everybody Loves Ralph.        

«««»»»

            Sometimes Ralph just walks around thinking. Many times, these excursions include Maeve, his philosophical confidant. It’s helpful to have a philosophical confidant, when pondering the world and all the infinite possibilities therein.
            It was just the end of summer and the whole forest was feeling a bit worn. Maybe everyone had had enough sunshine. It never gets really hot in the Great Forest, but it gets warm, persistently warm. There is almost a sound to it. Insects, yeah, but maybe another sort of hum.
            There is a resinous scent to the heated air. The forest duff when tossed by a listless toe smells faintly of another season, the season of mist, moss, and that ineffable slightly moldy smell of the PNW old growth forest.
            As Ralph paced the familiar forest trails, his toe did rumple the forest floor, as if ascertaining its identity. Ralph had a touch of the blues.
            “What’s up, Boss?” said Maeve, from his shoulder. She was feeling her age and the turn of the year some herself. Daytime fliers notice the shortening of the light.
            “What? My mind was somewhere else, Maevie,” said Ralph.
            “You’re being very quiet, Boss. It’s not like you,” said the big black bird.
            “You know I can kind of hear what the people say, if I pay attention. It’s like a sea of thought lapping at my mind. Most of the time I ignore it. But I keep hearing a thing. It sounds silly, but I hear it a lot,” said he.
            “That’s terrible,” said Maeve.
            “Oh most of the time it’s like hearing those bugs out there buzzing away. It’s just a buzz. But, coming clearly out of the buzz, I hear ‘who goes there?’ I think they’re talking about me, or someone like me. Their ideas are such a hodgepodge of fears and desires! What to do?” cried Ralph.
            “Do you have to do anything about it?” said Maeve.
            “I’d like to get above it for a while. I’m sure something would come to me,” he said.
            “What I do is go up over the tops of the trees, way way up, where I can see everything,” said Maeve. “It’s all quite small from up there.”
            “Can you see everything below the tree tops too, Maeve?” asked Ralph, with a glimmer of hope being born in his mind.
            “Yes, Ralph, I can. Would you like to come with me,” said Maeve.
            “Can I?” he said.
            “Of course you can. I will give you one of my pinions to hold!” she said.
            With that, Maeve chose one of her strongest flight feathers and she plucked it out, handing it to the King of the Great Forest. It was a good nine inches long, strong, shiny and deepest black, the very soul of flight!
            Maeve lifted up off of Ralph’s shoulder and took a couple of loops around in the sleepy warm air.
            “Come on, Ralph. Come up!” she shouted.
            So, holding the big black feather, Ralph became aloft. He followed Maeve up a bit, grinning like a kid having the best adventure he could imagine, and in real time.
            Maeve flew as slowly as she could, just barely staying airborne. Ralph just followed along.
            Up and up they went. They flew among the mighty trunks, and then burst through the canopy of fir branches, out into the massive blue of the late summer sky.
            At first when Ralph looked down all he could see were the tops of the multitudes of trees.
            “How do you bear it, Maeve? It’s overwhelming. It’s beautiful. It’s the land rolling on and on forever!” he sang out.
            “I’m a creature of this world, is how I bear it. But it is beautiful,” said Maeve. “Look down now!”
            Holding his feather, Ralph looked down. Through a break in the masses of trees he could see the Home Clearing as he had never seen it before. So small. So beloved. So perfectly just what it was.
            He saw the stone cliff wall with the green door built into it, and beside it  he saw the stone circle where Ramona kept the fire burning.
            He saw Ramona herself, grace in flesh, holding Cherry, and Blue crouched at their feet. He saw two great tawny cats lolling about the clearing like cats anywhere, indolent and sleepy! He saw his son, Twigg bringing in a pair of turkeys for his mother, and her happily receiving them.
            He saw the meadow, and Uncle Bob’s Stump House, and indeed, Uncle Bob and Aunt Suzy relaxing by their fire.
            A little further on, looking over toward the road, he saw Thaga and Ooog's tiny plantation, the rough slate roof of their stone house, the late summer garden, and even Ooog out there digging potatoes.
            He saw the river flowing westward to the bay in the distance. There was just a bit of Milltown over that way too.
            He saw the whole Cascade Mountain range.
            He saw the curve of the earth, the vault of the sky, and the nearest star over it all.
            “You see this every day, Maeve!” shouted Ralph, enraptured.
            “I do!” she called out.
            “Now, tell me, Ralph. Who goes there?” said Maeve. “Surely you know!”
            “I do! I do! I go there!,” said Ralph.
            “Yes, you do! Now we better get back down before Cherry sees us and tries to join us!” said Maeve.
            So, as gently as they had gone up, they went down, drifting softly down through the forest canopy, down among the trunks, and landing in the general area of the big cedar log.
            After Ralph sat there breathing for a few minutes, to settle down, he said, “May I keep the feather, Maeve?”
            “Of course, Boss. It’s your feather, to remind you,” said Maeve.
            “I will never forget,” said Ralph.
            “Evermore,” said Maeve, because she couldn’t help herself!

💙

One Of Those Days & An Open Thread

 

 

🍃

           I bumped into this old photo and was thinking about how things have changed. For one thing, the rest of the cards have darkened and don't look like that anymore. The photo was dated Feb. 1, 2023. Three years!
            I might need to design a new one. I have to wonder what I would have to put on there.

            Yesterday was a funny day. I felt a lot of pressure from unfinished projects. I did a little editing of the Everybody Loves Ralph text. I looked at my painting on the big easel each time I walked past it. But that's all. And I thought about writing some new material, but didn't. 

            The editing doesn't even take that long. It's mostly rereading and checking for blunders and setting the pages up right. Then I will need to produce a cover. 

            Didn't even knit much. 

            I was a lazy girl yesterday! 

            Suzy and Mr. Baby say it's the only way to be!

            You may assume my best wishes to you all today!

🌿

Ralph And Ooog Take A Morning Meeting

 

            One day, when the crows were discussing things loudly amongst themselves and the snow was nearly gone, Ralph thought it was time to get busy building Twigg and Leely’s house. Ralph had been thinking all during the cold times. He knew this house would be a new thing in the Great Forest. “But, heck,” he thought. “A new thing is a good thing if it’s done with love and it’s right.”
            He decided that it was time to go see Ooog, who had promised to help build the house. There were lots of decisions to be made, to do this new thing. “Well,” he thought, “Partly new, partly old.”
            “Mona,” Ralph said suddenly, “It’s time to get started. Bending trees takes time, and I need to talk to Ooog. I think I’ll go on up and talk to him.”
            He had been sitting, staring into the fire for a while. It was a good place to think during the cold months. His log was covered in melting snow, after all.
            “Yes, it’s time to start,” she agreed. “You’re right, Baby.”
            “I’ll see you later, Mona,” he said and wandered off to the Neanderthal’s cabin. There was still a lot of frozen snow on top of the grass out in the open, but it didn’t slow him down any. It was still morning, but of course, Thaga and Ooog were up doing their winter morning thing. There was lantern light in the window, and smoke rising from the chimney. Ralph could smell something rather delightful on the breeze. Thaga was a great baker, and he knew he was probably in for a treat.
            Ralph knocked and waited on the stone steps for a moment. Ooog came to the door and let him in. It was very warm inside the kitchen, and the sweet smell of cinnamon met him on the doorstep before he even stepped inside.
            “Well, Ralph,” said Ooog, “I believe I know what’s on your mind today. Spring is nearly here and we need to get moving on this project”
            “That’s it,” said Ralph. “I’ve been thinking about bending trees into a dome shape. Twigg’s first idea was to make a living house out of saplings. But I’ve gotten a better idea. Those saplings would have a lot of growing left in them, and whatever we built using them would be destroyed in time.”
            “You’re right about that,” agreed Ooog. “Let’s go sit at the table. Thaga’s baking cinnamon rolls. Smell good, don’t they?” Ooog winked because he knew that Ralph was born hungry and had stayed that way.
            “It sure does smell good! I’ve never had a cinnamon rolls before! Ranger Rick often has doughnuts, but nothing that smells this great!” grinned Ralph. It was that yeasty sweetness. He found it exotic and compelling.
            So, Ooog sat at the head of the big wooden table, and Ralph took the big chair Ooog had made for him, and they got down to their design meeting while Thaga pulled the rolls out of her wood fired oven and set about icing them. She made coffee too, since coffee goes with cinnamon rolls.
            “What I’m thinking,” said Ralph, “is that we find a group of alders of their full height and use those, so they won’t get taller. They will get thicker, but not a lot, and as time goes by, we can make adjustments if we need to.”
            “OK, said Ooog. We just have to find the right trees. Probably closer in to the firs where they’ve been growing longer.
            “I’ve been thinking about how to finish out on the inside for Leely and Twigg. Of course it would be strange to  him, except that he has probably been living in human rooms in Mak’s palace way out there in space, wherever it is!
            “Once we get the trees to meet at the top and secure them there, I’m thinking of filling in the outside walls with mortared river rocks. And if the trees eventually crack that stone wall, it’s fixable. I think it would take years. Also, I’d like to make a plank floor inside, up off the ground on blocks. Another idea I have is to install a small wood stove, of course, cause Leely won’t know how to cook on an open fire like Ramona does so well. The pipe could go through the stone wall! I could build some cupboards and even make beds! What do you think?”
            “What I think,” said Ralph, “Is that I knew you would have it all figured out, except for the trees! It sounds perfect! I think we should let berry vines and ferns and wild roses root in the roof. Maybe we could weave the trees branches to make a tight roof too!”
            “I could make a water tight ceiling inside too, and then it would all grow together and it would be a Living House. A new thing in the Great Forest, Ralph!” crowed Ooog, with his hands kind of itching to get on with the job, because that’s the kind of guy Ooog was.
            “When it’s all done it will be a part of the land, like it grew there, but better,” said Ralph.
            Then the cinnamon rolls were cool enough to eat. Thaga brought a platter of them to the table, and they were a sight to behold. They were fully 8 inches across and full of raisins and nuts, and iced with cream cheese icing. Thaga has her sources!
            She brought her big coffee pot and three stoneware mugs made by Ooog to the table, with three plates, and took a seat herself.
            Things got quiet for a while except for happy munching noises.
            “So good, Thaga,” said Ralph happily.
            “Thanks, Ralph. I’ve done this a few times,” and she laughed. “I’ll send you home with some for Ramona and Cherry and the cats and the wolf!” She looked quite pleased at the compliment though.
            “Tomorrow, Ooog, can we go out and find the right trees? We can look at them and kind of dream this thing into existence. I think it’s going to take a lot of powerful dreaming, and a lot of hard work too!” said Ralph.
            “Let’s do it,” said Ooog. “Right now I’m too full to do anything but take a morning nap, but tomorrow morning for sure, Ralph.”
            Thaga found a clean little box in the back of the kitchen, which she had saved from something. She lined it with an old kitchen towel and stacked in some of the big rolls for the Home Clearing. “Be careful, Ralph! They’re soft,” she said.
            Both Ralph and Ooog realized that building supplies would be needed, but since both of them were total optimists, they figured they would get to that when they got there. Something like that!
            “Thanks, Thaga! Ramona will love these rolls!” said Ralph, as he set out for home.

☕

Love Lives On

 

His best portrait. 

His was truly a Joyous Configuration!

🤍

Five Brothers Went Camping Together

 

            Once upon another time and in another place, there was a family with five sons. Three were singletons, and two were twins. Their ages spanned 18 years down to 6 for the twins.
            Jack was 18, Denny was 15, Georgie was 11, a redhead, and the twins at 6 years were Samuel and Benjamin. Both golden haired with curls, angelic.
            One evening Jack said to his four brothers, “Tomorrow let us gather up all our camping gear and spend a night in the woods up by the Woody River. We shall build a fire to gather around.”
            The next morning, early, with their doting parent’s permission, they loaded all the required into Jack’s old third hand white Taurus. A noble beater. Into the trunk went the tent, the bedrolls, the food and drink, and this and that as desired. Jack brought his old flashlight. Georgie had a radio. Denny forgot his pocket knife and the twins brought their bears.
            The twins sat in the back seat with Denny, and Georgie sat beside Jack as he drove the handful of miles to the Woodsy River. It was not an official campground; it was just a place near a river under tall firs and some leafy trees.
            When they got to their spot, Jack wisely parked the Taurus facing out. He didn’t lock up either. Sometimes seconds count.
            It was a perfect day. The river muttered in the distance. The sun dappled the ground, shining through alder and maple leaves. The wind came by and made the fir trees sigh a little. There were crows, and jays chattering.
            Jack sent the younger boys off to find something to burn. He sent Denny to the river bank to find some handily-sized rocks to make a small fireplace. It took Denny two trips to get the rocks. Georgie and Sameul and Benjamin took a long time finding fuel, but finally came back with some dead fallen branches and such. Jack broke them up to useful lengths.
            As you can see, all proceeded well. Jack and Denny set up the tent. The five folding chairs went around the fire. The hot dogs were roasted; the pop was drunk.
            Evening came. The forest became dark. The brothers sat together by the pleasant fire.
            But then something very odd happened.
            Denny saw a man, a very big man, walking just beyond the light of the fire. He watched long and carefully before he said a word. “There’s someone walking out there between the Woodsy River and us, boys,” he said.
            Jack directed his flashlight’s beam where Denny pointed. “I see a bear walking away,” he said. “I think your head is full of old men’s tales, Denny!”
            Georgie said, “No. It’s just a big deer. It isn’t a man or a bear. I see a brown haired rump there.”
            Samuel said, “Someone is talking!” And, indeed, there was a chattering sort of a sound.
            Benjamin said, “It’s the river. The river makes a lot of noise.” But he was afraid.
            Said Jack, “Guys, let’s put it all back in the trunk and go sleep in own beds.” For he was responsible for the lot of them, and Benjamin was crying anyhow. Samuel agreed solemnly, and Denny and Georgie giggled, but did as Jack said.
            Thus ended the camping trip.
 
            Now, The Forest Man and the Forest Woman, left alone at their midnight fishing spot, were free to make some observations about the differences in perceptions among forest visitors.
            “You saw it, you heard it, my Dear, did you not?” he said.
            “I did,” she said, as she sat watching the man as he fished. It was a simple process of slipping underwater and catching a fish or two by hand while they drowsed in the dark water.
            “It seems as if each heart brings its own eyes and ears to the forest,” he said. “One will see us as we are. One will see something that proves the first one wrong, for the sake of his own state of mind.
            “It’s a mystery to me, and yet it is we who are the great unknown, so called,” said he.
            “I think, though odd, it’s for the best, my good man,” said she. “For we must share the world, to a certain degree, with mankind, the Relatively Hairless,” she laughed, it was an old joke among her people.
            “Perhaps mystery is a wall of separation for them and for us,” said he, coming up from the water with a fish in each hand. One for her, one for himself.
            “I believe that you are correct, as usual,” she said, taking his arm as they walked through the paths of the forest together to their own resting place.
 
            Then, only the softly sibilant river moved on over its bed of pebbles. Small creatures sighed in their sleep in burrows and nests, and the wind came looking and then left the stage itself. For the wind is very restless and curious above all things.

🍃

Her Bubbles Fly Over The Imperial Sand Dunes

 

I had to look the place up to see where it was!
So, it's a sandy place in the bottom of California.

Perhaps this is the first time bubbles have flown there!

An open thread, of course.

Best Purrsday wishes to all!

💙

The map is a little hard to read, but you get the idea.

It's Just Like Flipping A Quarter

 

 
            Milly had something on her mind. She usually did. She sat at her desk at the Milltown paper, tapping her pen on its surface. She was waiting for Maeve to check in for a morning chat at the window. The window was open even though it was winter and the air was pretty chill out there.
            Some guy in Arlington had written her at the paper about fairies, of all things. She thought he might be pulling her leg and had back-burnered that inquiry for the moment.
            She wanted to talk to Ralph about a YouTube program she had watched the night before. The guy had a theory about trees. These were trees which were turned upside down and jammed back into the earth at various places around the area. Milly knew that the man to ask was right out Highway 20. “Living in the woods, just like the song says,” she thought.
            Maeve hit the window frame with one of her theatrical thumps just as Milly was hearing the Amboy Dukes singing away in her memory.
            “Good morning, Milly,” said Maeve, tidying her feathers.
            “Come, in. Good morning. It’s getting cold in here,” said Millicent Price, newspaper columnist.
            Maeve obliged and Milly slammed the window shut. Maeve lighted on her desk where she could see the computer screen.
            “Look at this,” said Milly, who then turned on the video about the trees so that Maeve could get a preview of it. “I need to talk to Ralph. Would you set something up with him for tomorrow? I can drive out there. We haven’t had a lot of snow yet. I’ll bring lunch.
            “Let’s say noon, unless he can’t make it,” she said, knowing he probably could. “You can give me the word tomorrow morning. OK?”
            “OK,” said Maeve and Milly opened the window briefly so that she could take off.
            Therefore, after getting Ralph’s answer, Millicent went to the best local deli and bought a stack of corned beef sandwiches on rye with mustard and mayo. They had a display of chocolate bars, so she got half a dozen of those too.
            Thus prepared for the visit, she headed up the freeway to Arlington, took the 530 exit and so forth. There was a little snow on the sides of the highway, not much. If it didn’t start snowing soon, it was going to be dry downhill this summer for sure.
            When she parked, Ralph himself and Maeve, were waiting for her just inside the tree line. She had packed the sandwiches and chocolate in a big canvas bag, because she thought Ramona could use a canvas bag.
            She slung the bag on her shoulder and said, “Hey, Ralph! It’s been a minute hasn’t it?”
            “Anytime is a good time, Milly,” said Ralph and the three of them vanished from the sight of anyone passing, into the forest proper.
            Down at the fire, Ramona and Cherry were waiting.
            “I brought lunch, Ramona,” said Milly. “Greetings!”
            “It’s good to see you, Milly. Come and sit by the fire,” said Ramona.
            Ralph really liked the sandwich, so he had a second. Ramona thought it was great too. “Such exotic flavors!” she said. Cherry had hers cut in strips because it was a rather large sandwich. Blue had one too. Even Bob and Berry had a sandwich each, to be polite to the guest.
             Maeve liked hers so well that she had nothing to say. The chocolate was shared out, and Ramona made a pot of her cowboy coffee on the fire.
            While Milly was still finishing her sandwich, she said to Ralph, “I think you know what I was wondering about, don’t you?”
            “You saw a video by a guy who thinks he knows why trees get stuck upside down in the ground. What was his theory?” said Ralph. “I can’t wait!”
            “In the cold light of day, it sounds pretty far-fetched. In short, he thinks they are grub farms. He believes that the Forest Men crave grubs so much that they must be creating the conditions for the growth of more and more grubs, Ralph. In a nutshell, “ said Milly.
            Ralph laughed until he got lightheaded and had to catch his breath for a minute.
            Ramona smiled. “Some of us do eat grubs, but not like that!” she said.
            “That was pretty funny. I loved it. Poor guy doesn’t have a clue,” said Ralph.
            “OK, there are three main reasons for jamming a tree back into the ground upside down, Milly. The first reason a guy might shove a tree in the ground is to mark his area of influence. We don’t have boundaries, or own land, but we sure do have areas kind of like a target. Right at the tree is whoever central! Others respect these markers!
            “Oh, you know, it’s a thing young guys do to show off and prove how tough they are. A good toss that lands well is much admired among the young guys and the young girls too, I might add. Which relates to the third reason! This is probably the most important reason,” said Ralph.
            “Hang on, I’m writing,” said Milly, working away with pad and pen. “OK, go on.”
            “Sometimes a girl can’t make up her mind. Two young guys seek her hand in marriage, and a decision must be made. Like maybe, tossing a coin to let the Universe decide. Well, in this case the girl would promise to marry whichever fellow makes the best job of landing a tree upside down. It’s all about style, and plain success. The decision is final and no one may complain about the results. The contest is done in front of witnesses so it’s for sure. That’s about it,” said Ralph. “I can’t get over the grub farm,” he said, giggling again.
            “Ah, Hugh’s a nice guy. We like him,” said Ralph.
            “You’ve seen the video?” said Millicent.
            “No. We know Hugh, though,” said Ralph. “He means well, maybe some day I’ll tell him what gives.”
            “I gotta admit, that makes perfectly good sense,” said Milly.
            “Now I have a question for you, Ramona,” she continued. “So, did Ralph ever toss a tree for you?”
            “Well, no. I just went swimming one night in the moonlight. I had already made up my mind. No tree tossing needed!” said Ramona. “And in his wisdom, he took the clue! And now, here we all are!”
            “Absolutely!” said Millicent, with a grin. “Hey, Ramona I thought you might like a big canvas bag. It’s for you.”
            “I could use a nice strong bag,” agreed Ramona happily. “Thanks!”
            “I’m going to tootle on home now, and see what Colin’s up to,” said Milly.
            So, they said their goodbyes with promises to meet again soon.
            “Bring Colin some time,” said Ralph.
            “I will,” said Milly. Maeve followed her to the big green Escalade, just to make sure she got going OK, then flew back to the family by the fire.

🔥

The Very Rude Awakening

 

            When Ribber Gof came to, he was three bags deep in the local landfill. He flexed those shovel-like hands of his and then cracked his knuckles thoughtfully. His exquisitely attuned nasal passages detected only the homely detritus of human daily life.
            “Bah!” said Ribber and he set to work digging out.
            The sun had gone down. It was dark. Ribber was pretty chirpy about that because he didn’t want to face down any feathery raptors, i.e. gulls.

            The big truck had hauled Ribber’s quiescent form to the Northwest County landfill in Arlington. As dumps go, it was up-to-date, quite spiffy, but still. A scent hung in the air, not the scent of gold. There was a ringing in his ears.
            He had been thwarted. It would not stand! “No, way!” gurbled the wee manikin.
            Though smelly and somewhat abraded here and there, he began running like Sonic the Hedgehog right back up Highway 530, heading for SR20 and Ranger Rick’s National Forest camp.
            As he ran, a marvelous thing happened. The smell blew off. His braid tidied itself, and his small wounds healed. He felt good. Sometimes its good to be Fae, sometimes it isn’t.
            Even in those early hours a few cars passed him. Drivers wondered if they were getting too sleepy or something. By the time they had passed the driver couldn’t really insist that they had seen a small form running along the pavement. It seemed as if the little person wore plaid, had a long silver braid, and maybe short leather trousers, and bare feet. It was too crazy to believe. Someone wrote it up, and sent the letter to that lady reporter at the Milltown paper, just for a laugh. He asked her if she knew anything about it, since she wrote about other mythic creatures. It should be stated that she actually had heard of such creatures, but wasn’t sure there was much to be said on the subject. “Maybe the less said, the better,” she thought.
            When he got up SR20 near the wide spot on the highway, he began smelling Ranger Rick’s Pesos again. He just had to skirt around the forbidden zone, the heart of the Great Forest.
Closer and closer. He felt great, full of confidence and expectation. Morning was coming on. The sky was lightening. Forest noises rose up. A curious wind blew through.
            But someone was up early. Someone who was always watching. A great black creature of the upper air saw the little form zipping along. She dropped down lower to get a better look.
            “Unbelievable, Evermore!” she muttered to herself.
            You can surely see how this is going.
            Maeve caught him up by the braid and rose back up into the air. On mighty wingbeats she set out to find Ralph. She flew right into the Home Clearing with Ribber hollering and begging for mercy.
            “Let me down,” he screamed. “Don’t take me to that hairy monster!”
            He made so much noise that he woke Ramona and then Ralph, himself.
            “Where’d you get that, Maeve,” said Ramona, eyebrows up in disbelief.
            “Bring it here,” said Ralph.
            She did, and Ralph grabbed Ribber by his big bare feet.
            “Tell me your name!” demanded Ralph.
            “I won’t,” squirmed Ribber.
            “You don’t want me to say it, for I can!” said Ralph. “If I say it all your powers will be gone. Say it, for your own sake, R…”
            “Ribber Gof, I’m Ribber Gof! Let me go, I’ll bring you gold!” sang the little twister.
            “Do you try to buy me off? Oh for shame, Plaidie. A bit of metal? What’s gold to me?” roared Ralph.
            Ralph held him like a captured rabbit, upside down.
            “The way I see it, Ribber, is you have a choice. You can have me sing the love of gold out of you, and go in peace. Or you can stay here forever in the Great Forest and serve me, but live!” laughed Ralph, seeing the potential humor in his own suggestion.
            “Oh, sing, Monster. Sing it,” shouted Ribber. “Don’t make me stay here and serve you! Oh, sir, not that!”
            And so it was that Ralph sang a song called What’s Gold To Me Anyhow? It was a fearsome song, and it cured Ribber of his greed and thievishness.
            Ralph set him down on the forest floor and watched him run away to the boulder by the river which is the Mouth of the Mountain. There he entered the underground forever.
            “Well, Baby, what a rude awakening,” said Ramona. Then she started building up her fire for the morning.

🍀