Forbidden Graces, Book One: Beginnings. Carol Inc. Bridges

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СКАЧАТЬ extra nuts or Blue Jay wanted to dispose of a ribbon that did not go with her nest. And, she liked to collect dandelion fuzz in season because Mouse liked it in her pillow.

      George was busy digging little gullies aimed at the plants who needed water. He was an outdoorsman, whereas, some of the Little People were crafters. Juanita, for instance, could do just about anything with pieces of wood. Carl was a weaver. Grass, thread, old rope ends. He was even known to snip pieces of aluminum cans and weave them into his tapestries. Bonjockay fancied himself an artist. He preferred working with flower petals and often enjoyed fabricating outlandish costumes for his partner, Fred. Fred cooked. Mostly wild foods, of course. But, he had a way with them. Nutcakes. Nettle tea over honeycomb. Burdock root soup with floating marigold blossoms. Very tasty.

      Saffi's Walk

      There are many realms of life, Saffi thought as she began her herb walk. She had forgotten her herb identification book, but thought it was just as well. She would use her intuition and request that the plants who wanted to be part of her celebration or those who had healing properties would make themselves known to her.

      A bee began to buzz near her beckoning her to follow. She picked up the pace and went along with her guide. A family of deer trotted by ahead, quickly disappearing. "Oh, how I wish I understood all these creatures," she thought. "They must have so much to teach me. They seem to live in harmony, following their natural design, needing only food and shelter."

      "Oh!" she stumbled, catching herself on a tree limb. "Thank you Miss Branch for stopping my fall. Perhaps this is where I am meant to find my plant. A Turtle looked up at her, tried to send a message, but to no avail. Turtle always took these things in her stride. Few humans have ever listened, though she has heard that there are some who care.

      "Turtle, hello," said Saffi. "I bet you know something. I wish I could hear you. You are quite interesting, very ancient I am told, though I really don't know much about you."

      "Oh," said Turtle. "Oh!" Perhaps if I stare at her, she will get the message. "Fern heard you singing and would like to hear more. She is just now unfurling her fronds and will let you pluck some for your dinner in exchange for a song. Long ago, Fern says, the humans always chanted in the forest each spring. This was the annual en-chant-ment time and let the forest beings know that they were invited and encouraged to put on their best for the season."

      Saffi was noticing the delicate green spirals on the tips of the fiddlehead ferns. "How perfect these are," she thought. And, just then, a poem came to mind. She began to sing:

      "Secrets of life can be easily found

      in the spirals of fern fronds curling around.

      All that is living travels this way

      spiraling round in this intricate way.

      Ferns and flowers, I could gaze at for hours.

      When I ingest you, I feel your powers."

      Turtle thought, "Hmmm," and walked on. Saffi picked a basket of fern frond spirals and resumed her walk as well.

      The Bond

      Cardinal found EC, delivered Sycamore's message to her and quickly turned back to spend the day as usual responding to the call of her loved one. EC headed back toward home to tell George about the two humans showing up and devise a plan.

      "Look," said Roan, "Two cardinals outside our window. I love to see them. They remind me of friendship and loyalty. You know, it has been too long since I have seen Yaro. We would often sit together in meditation, then share a salad and bread. He always felt like the brother I never had.

      "Growing up I felt isolated, living so far from the city. And at school I was considered odd because I did not want to learn to hunt nor to wrestle or play football. Other boys liked the rough things. I took refuge in the garden and with the cows in the barn. I never minded caring for them. They seemed to lead a humble, relaxed life.

      "In high school, I met Yaro. He was just sitting in the hall one day staring off into space. When I walked by, he said, "Look outside." I looked but didn't notice anything unusual. "Thank you," he said. "I was just testing my ability to take command. Most people ignore me."

      "He seemed serious. I said, "What do you see?" He said, "Life is calling me to come and take part, but I am just sitting here feeling trapped."

      "Let's go," I said on a whim. And we both left school in the middle of the day. It did feel good to take charge of ourselves. We were 14, full of energy, dying to explore the big world, see if our wit and muscle could tackle the adventure.

      "We ran without talking. We seemed to communicate telepathically, knowing exactly when to stop and what to do next. It was almost as if Yaro were a mirror of myself. I think he felt the same. After climbing trees, fording streams, and falling exhausted in the field, we laid there a long time.

      "I didn't know what to call it then, but now I would say it was love. I fell in love with him. We did nothing to express it. Just lay there thinking, then not thinking. After that day, we were like the cardinals, always looking out for each other, keeping each other in our awareness.

      "His family moved after senior year and I felt a great loss. He did return from time to time and we would talk and walk and share about our lives. His family wanted him to be educated back east where his father went to school, a prestigious college so that his degree would entitle him to a professional career and a high class lifestyle. He hated it. Drank a lot, smoked pot, dated, but never loved exactly.

      “Perhaps, I shouldn’t put it that way. I am sure he did love, just not in the way the girls wanted him to. Most were into the class and status thing, he told me. He tried to date all kinds, he said, and had some pretty wild stories.

      “He told me once of Chau, who invited him up to her room and showed him photographs of herself in all sorts of pornographic poses. He was shocked, as she had seemed demure, quiet, sensitive, maybe even shy. She wanted him to find her beautiful, which, of course, he did, but the photos scared him, he said. He knew he would be getting into an emotional relationship that he might not understand if he slept with this person.

      “I asked him, of course, what he did do. He said he praised the photos for their artistic qualities, inquired about the photographer’s training and suggested that she might model for the art classes. Then he told her he had to study for a test and got the heck out of there.

      “When he met Saffi, he called me to say, “This time it is real. She actually loves me, and I know her in the way I knew you.” I almost cried when he said that. I wasn’t sure if I was happy or sad. It is just that all of a sudden I felt again the depth of our love for each other, and I did not want the feeling to leave me. Of course, I congratulated him. Then I went to my room and cried for a long time.

      “Sweet Roan, you have come a long way in learning to express your feelings. I cherish the stories you share with me. Perhaps it is time to call Yaro. He and Saffi can stay with us for awhile, and you and Yaro can spend time alone while Saffi and I go on an outing to paint or sketch. I am sure the feelings you once shared are still there. Now, you can savor them even more consciously."

      “Thank you, Keara. I will.”

      The Shock

      Yaro caught a bucket of bluegill and was resting on the bank watching the sky turn СКАЧАТЬ