The Lady of the Mist had awoken, now hovering through the rolling hills, touched by the first quiet strokes of golden rays. Mister Porcupine awoke and called on his children: “Breakfast time! The bark is soft and moist and juicy. Smelling good. No time to straighten the Quills. Off we go, move it, move it”
They all managed, shall we say, not so much in an orderly fashion, to wiggle themselves out of the rocks and go into the meadow. Mr. Porcupine greeted the Lady of the Mist: “Nice to see you, you are being very kind to our little family.” The Lady of the Mist nodded a silent ‘you’re welcome’ as she continued her advance down toward the lakeshore.
Crossing the Meadow, they could hear a staccato humming: “I ain’t good looking and I ain’t that smart, but baby I´m a sensitive guy…” and as the sound came closer so did the singer: It was Rhino Beatle, paving his way through the dew heavy grass in not an absolutely straight line.
“You’re busy this morning,” Porcupine said.
“Yeah, gotta get home to the missus, it got late. Hung out with these frogs under the ferns’, boy they just can’t stop. Heavy drinkers, just saying, that’s why they burp all the time and make it sound charming… it isn’t. Did I tell you the one: Three salamanders and a Crane walked into a bar? These three Salamanders walked into a bar, see and…”
He suddenly stopped when he realized he had to get home safe before the Ants got up. They had a strange affection for turning a beetle upside down and stinging it to death.
“Gotta, go – one thing is the Ants the other thing the wrath of the Missus, a tiny beetle can only handle so much…” And off he went like a locomotive on dizzy train tracks.
The dew-covered Bluebells got a rude awakening by the Porcupines’ brute force tanking right through them and it airlifted a quadrillion of Tinker Bell like Fairies.
“Well, not the kind of morning awakening I had in mind,” one of them laughed, “but now that we´re up let’s get to work.” They were the devas minding the Bluebells and since they shared the same toning of blue, it was a mutual rewarding relationship.
The Tinker Bells would confuse the Bluebell eating bugs by buzzing around them and disorienting them so they would fly away and the Bluebells made a perfect hideout if the devas needed to hide for protective reasons.
The Lady of the Mist had reached the lake and the mist changed its appearance from transparent white to the clearest of white making it a small inconvenience for the Swans and their new status as a family. They gave the Lady of the Mist an elegant polite bow with their long necks, and decided to stay near shore so the darling little one’s wouldn’t get lost. The Swans always enjoyed the protection and caring for their needs by: The Lady of the Lake.
The Lady of the Mist and she were sisters of the Dawn and eventually, often in spring, they would have the chance to meet and tell tales from whatever was going on in their realm and the ongoing dispute with the Trolls – who not so much posed a danger, but you know, Trolls are Trolls and a bit more… blunt and ‘unsophisticated’ and careless of beauty. Both knowing; they provide this particular piece of meadow with a fine balance between what is perceived in a world more physical and frightened between light and dark under the narrative: ‘A bit of mutual fun and a bit of tease – never hurt anyone.’
They all know the story of a neighbouring parish, where that delicate balance was disrupted and turned into a direct conflict. After the last battle of these realms, nothing was left other than a desolate landscape, soon conquered without much effort by the hordes of the dense astral Subterranean….Now referred to as The Black Moor. Home of Crows and Ravens and all sorts of eeriness.
Brother Sun had now broken through gently gently dissolving the Lady of the Mist into tiny fractals ascending into its radiant heart only to be awakened and born again by the reminiscence of a descending moon and a sky lit in Shades of Halloween Orange and Gemini Red.
The meadow could breathe by its own life force now, and a family of Deer slowly came out of the forest, heading for their morning Clovers. Mister Fox was playing with his sons and daughters.
Owl came in on a low flight, a bit late for his sleep, settling on his branch on top of the Pine tree, did his ‘I can rotate my head in an awesome way – How cool is that! – stunt’, saw that all was good and fell into a somehow lucid sleep, allowing the day to unfold as it pleased….
All engaged they were, living their lives, in a vibrant unspoken prayer of Pure Abundant Life Force.
©2019 Soren Dreier
Soren Dreier: Readings – Healings – Guidance