One Word prompts yesterday and today: oak and shower

Sunday Scribbling prompt: hunger

Nissa woke to rain dripping off the leaves of the ivy that had grown lovingly around the giant old oak.  She had curled up in the cradle made by roots that had wandered out and down through the cool dirt.  Leaves that had fallen over years and velvety moss had made this a favorite summer spot to daydream.  Daydream and watch the old man work his garden.  She had spent more and more time here lately.  Her mum had changed and while she was never mean, she was just sort of not there.  Nissa couldn’t really put a name on it, she frightened her.  She used to sing while she worked and she would hug Nissa and chase her around the yard laughing, more like a sister than a mother.

These days she just went through the motions.  The house was clean and supper was cooked, but she never smiled or sang and when she wasn’t working she would sit at the table and stare at the fire as though she were waiting for something.  She never spoke unless you asked her a question.  Nissa shivered though the shower that had blown up wasn’t cold.  She sat up and  scooted up closer to the trunk where she could watch the rain but stay dry . The smell of the rain on the dirt, honeysuckle from somewhere nearby, and the wet herbs in the garden filled her nostrils and she closed her eyes and breathed it in.  She felt much better out here, away from the house and her mother and whatever it was that seemed to be hanging over their heads like a dark and heavy cloud.

She heard a door shut and opened her eyes.  The old man was sitting on the porch with a bowl and hunk of bread.  Her mouth started to water and she realized that it had been hours since breakfast. “Are you hungry girl?” said the old man. “There is plenty if you will come sit.”

She hesitated.  She always felt safe and peaceful here and her instincts had never brought her harm.  She liked coming here and if he told her to stay away she would have nowhere else to go.  She weighed all that against her empty belly and stood up and walked to his porch.  “You are Nissa.” He said.  She jerked her head up in surprise.  He had not only known she was there but he knew her name as well!  “I am Simon.”  he said and he held out a bowl of stew to her.  She took the bowl, thanking him and he gestured to a seat and another piece of bread.  She sat down and they ate in silence.  She mopped up the rest of the liquid in her bowl with the last of her bread and sighed in contentment..  Simon handed her his bowl and asked her to set them in the washpan in the house.

She stepped in the room and it took a moment for her eyes to adjust and then they widened in curiosity?  Delight?  She didn’t know where to look first!  There were drawings and stuffed birds, carvings and odd stones of all shapes and colors.  She remembered she was holding the bowls and carefully put them in the tub of water.  She backed towards the door, wishing to explore but not wanting to be rude.  “Who was this Simon?” She wondered.

When she stepped outside, Simon had his eyes closed and his head leaned up against the wall,  The rain had stopped and the sun showed wrinkled skin, translucent and almost glowing from within in the sunlight.  His white hair was long but braided and he smelled like Rosemary.  She sat down in the sun near him and he began to tell her about the plants in his garden.  She had been watching him tend them, trimming some that got too adventuresome and pulling weeds from around others that seemed to prefer their space.  He often hummed and sometimes spoke quietly as he cared for them.

“There is a heartbeat to the earth and if you listen carefully, you will hear it beating in a garden.  The seasons have a rhythm all their own and the earth will speak to you.  Whatever you give, you get back so much more.”  He told of plants that were for healing, plants that made food taste better, and some that were for love and beauty.

“I like the ones you can eat, the best.” Nissa told him.  Simon smiled and said that the earth would feed more than just your belly.   “That may be so,” Nissa said, “but it’s hard to think of anything else if you are hungry.”  She looked away from him as she said it.

“Then you may come to this garden anytime you wish.” Simon said.

“Will you teach me how things grow?” she asked..

“Yes child, but it is work and you have to be willing.” He smiled seeing more than she knew.  Simon saw that she was strong and brave and would not be able to resist a challenge. He had dreamed of a child for the last few nights, and of something dark that she was running from.  He couldn’t see clearly yet, just what it was. He only knew that he must help her and that he had to go slow so that whatever it was would not awaken before he had taught her enough to help him defeat it.

“I can do anything you ask me to do.” she said proudly and maybe a bit defensively.  She had her chin stuck out as though she was daring him to disagree.  Simon just smiled and said “Then I shall see you tomorrow.”  Though she didn’t want to, she squared her shoulders and headed towards her home.  She didn’t want him to know how scared she was of going back to her mother and she was afraid that he would find out that something was wrong there and send her away.  She would show him that she could help.  She would make herself indispensable and then he would never send her away and she would have a place to go, to be, to grow.  She even whistled a bit on the way home.  The sound died on her lips as she reached the house.  She quietly slipped around back and through the window into her room so that she wouldn’t have to see the vacant stare in her mother’s eyes.  She quietly wrapped herself in her quilt and as the sky grew dark, she huddled in the corner of her bed and finally fell into a troubled sleep.

Sunday Scribbling prompt #177: Adult and One Word Destination

“Simon – run along and play, I’ve work to do,”  Mum brushed a damp strand of hair back from her forehead.  There were good smells coming from the pot on the fire and she was sweeping yesterdays dust out the door.

“Yes mum.” he called as he jumped over her broom laughing and ran out into the sunshine.  He waved at his Da out in the garden as he ran past and headed to the woods.  It was a warm day and the cool shade was beckoning.

He followed the path he had worn through the trees to the creek and tossed stones at turtles sunning on a log as boys will do.  He watched as they left their log and dove into the cool water. He found a great crooked stick and carried it with him, whacking trees and plants as he walked along.  He ventured farther than he usually did, lost in daydreams.

The sound of singing came to his ears and he changed direction to get closer and see where it was coming from.  As he climbed through bushes he saw a place where the sunlight slipped between the leaves and bathed a small clearing in golden light.  A girl sat with a hat of many colors on her head.  He slipped closer, hidden by trees and his eyes widened with wonder.  He started to make the sign to ward off evil but something told him there was no evil here.

What he first thought to be a hat was butterflies of all kinds, covering her hair and back which was turned to him.  Her arms were held out from her sides and sparrows and larks and robins flew in and landed and flew off again, fearless and singing.  Her melody seemed at one with the birds and the light fell all around her like a warm blanket.

He stood very still and silent, just watching.  The girl looked to be about his age, with long brown hair and a flower chain around her neck.  She stopped singing and turned smiling. “Come out boy.” she said.

Simon stepped out from behind his tree and stood staring.  “What is your name?” she asked him.  “I am Simon Brennan.  Who are you?”

“I am called Nuala” she said.  “Come and sit with me, Simon ‘of sorrow’ and the butterflies will cheer you.”

Simon quietly walked over and sat beside her, amazed that the butterflies didn’t leave.  They seemed to sense that she was a safe haven.  “Are those apples, you have in your tunic?” she asked.

Simon had found an apple tree in his ramblings and picked a few and tied them up in his tunic to eat later.  He nodded and took them out.  Polishing one on his britches, he held it out to her.  “Thank you.” she smiled at him again and he felt like her smile was warmer than the sun.  It seemed to light her from the inside and he felt as safe as the butterflies.  They sat and shared apples and told each other many things.

“Are you Sidth?” Simon asked her.  He had heard stories of Faeries but had never really believed in them,.  At least til now.  He would have believed anything of her.  “No,” she laughed. “I’m as human as you, Simon.”

“Then how do you call the creatures to you and they have no fear?”  He asked.  She told him that you have to be as quiet in your heart and let the magic of the world come through.  He didn’t really understand but it didn’t matter.  He would listen as long as she would speak.

Simon and Nuala met most days for the rest of that summer.  It was the last summer they would truly be children as trouble and adulthood would soon come to them in the valley.  For these days, at least, sunshine, apples, and the beginnings of true love carried them through the season.

As Simon woke from the dream, he felt again the fullness of heart that had been his as a young man.  No matter the destination and the sadness that eventually came to pass, he would never regret those days for they had brought him Nuala and the love that had lasted throughout his life, from that forest all the way to the moon and back.

Totally Optional Prompts offered color for inspiration and it had been sitting in the back of my mind for a couple of days and Sunday Scribblings prompt is New in honor of Laini who is anxiously awaiting the birth of her baby. One Word Prompt: Geese

Simon was slowly regaining his health.  Word had spread in the valley that he had returned and soon folks would “pass by” to get a glimpse.  As he got stronger he would take his staff and wander around his house in the afternoon sun.  He would rest when he was tired and as he sat on a bench in front of his house the children came and sat around him and begged for stories.

“Shh” he said with his finger to his lips and a twinkle in his eyes.  “If you get still I will tell you how our valley came to be so beautiful”.  The children scooted up closer and waited expectantly.

Once a beautiful lady lived in a house at the end of the lane.  She had magic that caused animals to be friendly and she loved this valley more than anything.  One day, he began…

“Tsk Tsk, this will never do.” she said as she stepped out on the porch.  The vista before her was all black and white and gun metal gray.  She picked up her box of supplies and walked into the scene.  On one side of her walked a lion and on the other a lamb.

She reached into the box and drew out her favorite brushes and began to paint.  She took blue and white and mixed the perfect shade of sky and  using wide strokes, applied light and air and wispy swirls of cloud. She took a tiny detail brush and with just a few flicks, birds wheeled and twirled.  “That’s better.” she thought.  Fine lines in the distance and suddenly geese flew in formation. The lion swished his tail and she nodded and smiled, “you’re right, we need to plan for morning and night.” and she added bright orange and deep rose in the west for the sunset to find and midnight blue so the night would have a place to hang the moon and stars. Lavender and pink blended in the east to invite the sun to rise.

The lamb nudged her with it’s nose and she nodded in agreement. She dipped her fan brush in the forest green and painted in towering pines, dabbing with black and gold for shadow and light, little brown pine cones to finish them off.  Now for some oaks and elms.  Bushes and shrubs and grasses to cover the earth and give the smaller animals something to nibble on.  She looked around at her work and was happy.

She took browns and golds and reds and gave the dreary houses clothing that warmed them and made yellow light to spill out of windows with blue curtains waving in the breeze.

“That’s so much better.” she told the lion and  lamb.  One last thing to be done.  She took her pen and drew loving and peaceful words over the first house and an angry argument ended.  Lullaby lyrics written into the next house and a fussy babe slept.  A poem from the street and the an artist sitting at his desk began to write.

She turned and as she wandered back to her home she sang softly and tree branches sighed in the wind, birds sang, and insects spoke of the changing seasons.  Her supply box was lighter and so was her step.  She reached her porch and set the box down and settled into her rocking chair.  Her friends curled on the porch at her feet, sleeping peacefully.  The gray was still there, but love had painted over it with beauty and the world was new with magic.

She grew sleepy and as she dozed, the shadows grew longer and night fell.  The darkness was so jealous of the colors she brought that it locked her in the moon and that’s where she lives to this day.

The children all clapped and didn’t notice the sadness in Simon’s eyes when he finished the tale.  “Go home children, your mothers will be calling you for supper.” he told them and stiffly got to his feet.  The children wandered home calling out goodbyes as they went.  They would look out their windows in wonder that night.  They would dream of a beautiful woman looking down on them smiling over her valley.