THE PART SIX BEGINS.
I begin to sense that the directions being delivered to me by the peasant are like an incessant gnat gnawing into my mind, so I decide to bid farewell and walk away from him. Life is too short to find a place like Log-on-the-Bog, 'tis a dung heap.
I nibble an elderflower, they are more flavoursome than the
young ones, and think it must be time to wend my way home. My feet seem to carry me by their own will, as is their want sometimes.
"Shall I follow you, feet?" I ask, and they do a little dance, and then a little jig, widdershins and deosil for a while.
As I traverse a gentle slope on a grassy rise I become transfixed by the sight of pollen upon a new breeze that is fresh and frolicsome. The spores of nature's alchemie skittle and scatter with the air to here and to there, tiny parcels that contain the principal of the world's refrain.
'Tis a silent song I hear that dances and trances in my ear. I know where it goes, for everything that is near is also where it went. This breeze is a transformational journey that connects to all around and forms the shape of things to come, for time has begun to renew itself with interwoven threads through all things that were before and are now again.
The angle of the slope I walk is true to the endless sky as I spy everything is imbued to the brim and brimming full with a power that sizzles silent and almost insane in order to gain it's place on this plane once again and always again and again, or quite often anyway.
Suddenly I find myself up an oak tree and I hear a voice saying..
"Ye flew!!"
I look down to see a maiden looking upwards at me agog, then the branch I am sat upon releases a loud cracking sound and I crash to her feet.
"'Tis a flight to earth, fair maiden," I say as I look up at her looking down at me.
"I like it, hee hee!!! she exclaims.
...to be continued when it is continuing around me...
*************oOo************
...something is around me again like a continuous thing....
THE PART SEVEN BEGINS.
I remove myself from the structure of branches and leaves that grow from the branch I was sat upon. Then I pick up my hat and put it back on my head, which is the best place for it.
"Ye be a real wizard if ever I saw one, walking in the air the way ye do and wearing the clothes ye wear," says the maiden.
"Indeed, I am Wizard Why of Wazzle Woods," I reply.
"Never heard of ye. I be new to these parts since moving here with me ma who is big and fat and could crush ye."
"Oh."
"I be Damsen," she continues "pleased to make your aquaintance. Which way ye going wizard?"
"Why?"
"Which way ye going Wizard Why? I be going home that way," she pointed.
"Well I be... I mean, I am going this way to Wazzle.
"Then I bid ye farewell Wizard Why."
"Because it is the polite thing to do, I suppose."
"It IS, Wiz.. hee hee." And she leaves.
I have seen those eyes before, they are eyes containing a past which exists within the circles of their own beginning. Or something like that.
Now, here I go towards home feeling the space beneath my feet where the earth and air meet. Here I go from here to there and now to then... there.. I have gone... and so here I go again through the titles they call subjects and objects towards the thoughts of trees where trees have thoughts to find myself just here at Creedence River where the water is clear and reviving.
In the flowing waters I see someone from many moons and suns ago, she is quite big and fat and able to crush most things.
"Hmm.. hee hee," I say.
"Glog glog plish plosh," says the river, "glog glog plish plosh," as it comes and goes in a single flow passing by me over the stones and on. A leaf twirls slowly as it floats along on the flow from somewhere to somewhere else. A squirrel pauses between pounces up a tree, and with it's little dark eyes and sniffy nose, it begins to look at me.
My cave is not far from here, and as I think this, I sense the evening is sending out the first signals of it's arrival into the air, which the plants and creatures acknowledge as the afternoon is beginning to turn towards evening. A nut hits my shoulder *pock* and it lands nearby.
I pick up the nut and find it to be an acorn all shiny and new, then I see the squirrel up above watching me from a tree with it's squirrel face. I throw the acorn back at the creature and it catches it with it's tiny hands then throws it back at me, left handed I notice. My hand catches the acorn, though I am unaware which one, and there on the acorn I see a symbol that is artfully engraved.
....this part will be followed by a part that will be after it....
**************oOo**************
....I see it now as it walks towards me...
THE PART EIGHT BEGINS.
I arrive in my cave where only I can be and see inside. Suffice to say it is spacious without being large and cosy without being small, and in a way it is not here at all. There are things inside it, and like most things they are and do what they are and do.
Upon closer examination of the symbol inscribed upon the acorn, I discover it is a symbol I am unaware of. Hmm, I doubt if the squirrel inscribed it. Meditation may provide meaning to this puzzle, so I begin to meditate and soon fall asleep.
Into my sleep a little furry person arrives who says to me..
"I am The Magic Squirrel."
Indeed this person is the size of a squirrel and looks like one as well, and a speaking one is a magical thing methinks.
It has a little loot that has one string which it plays *pling* *pling* and begins to sing..
"Oooooooh."
Tis not much of a song.
"I am The Magic Squirrel," it says again.
"You are repeating yourself," I reply.
"I am repeating myself," it says.
"Yes, and I wonder why?"
It produces a tiny Viking helmet and puts it on it's head, then says..
"I am The Magic Squirrel." *pling* *pling.*
Oh dear. Did I fall asleep to see this?
"Give us a dance!" I say.
"Give me a dance!" it exclaims. *pling* *pling*
Then the squirrel rises up through the air *ppfffff... .....fffffffftt* and disappears *pling*
My eyes open and I discover myself lying on the floor with a loot in my hand, it is a new one and very nice. What magic squirrel trickery is this I wonder? Then I realize the acorn is under my hat and decide to leave the cave and look at the evening trees for a while.
As I gaze at a silver birch tree I notice a voice calling from a little distance away. What does it say?
"Wizard Why! I am looking for Wizard Why!!" is what it says.
"I AM WIZARD WHY!!!" I bellow.
"I DO NOT KNOW!!" comes the reply "I AM LOOKING FOR WIZARD WHY!!!"
"I DO NOT KNOW!!!"
"I BRING A MESSAGE FROM THE KING FOR YOU WIZARD WHY!!!"
"BECAUSE YOU ARE THE MESSENGER!!!"
Then someone appears from between some trees and asks..
"Have you seen my horse?"
"No," I reply "but there is a fat cow running about somewhere."
"Thank you. Here is the message," and he hands me a small scroll bearing a seal.
"This is not the King's seal," I tell him.
"He fancied a change and made a new one. Now I must leave you Wizard Why."
"Because you do not live here. Farewell and thank you." The messenger turns and disappears into the trees again.
I place the acorn next to the seal and see they have the same design.
"Fancy that," I think.
......to be continued when it becomes continued...
*********oOo*********
...it seems to be here I can hear it.....
THE PART NINE BEGINS.
That night I had a powerful dream of swirling intension and potency, but I have forgotten what it was. Ah well. I awoke on the cave wall and fell to the floor into a moment where time walked like a duck into now as I am looking out from my cave towards the tree and grass and leaf structures with the structures of my eyes.
"Everything is structures, with hidden paths to each other."
I turn to see who said this when I realize I did. I turn to the scroll instead and read it again..
"Good morning Wizard Wi
I bi the keng of NoRom i bi kIng Alf redfred. Now. I want yu to com tu the queen's Pageant at Kackatok castle or else.
I lik crabs.
king Allredfred."
The King's writing has improved. Now and again I am invited to the Queen's Pageant, however I prefer to attend when I am not invited, as is my want as a wizard because I like to move with a measure of mystery.
Time continues to walk like a duck, and as the morning progresses I find myself more and more until I am completely here.
"Here I am," I say.
I look around to see if I am also elsewhere, but it appears not. My hands take the plants that I gathered the day before, and lay them across a rock where the sun breaks through the leafy canopy of the trees. There is Vervain, Neliotrope, Myrtle and Humlock.
I decide to be elsewhere and set foot through the woods and up towards the Sodden Hills where the air is good for the feet and elbows. The ground rises gradually as I approach the hills which remain mostly wooded except for the tallest of them, known as The Big Sodden Toe, where the trees become sparse between swathes of grass.
As I continue to set foot with my feet towards the high ground, I notice a handful of people sitting in a small clearing. They listen as a man speaks.. he seems to be telling a tale.. I think he is a bard but not one I recognize.. he is saying this..
"...and the stick was placed into the air by the fellow and he waved it about all Wodensday until it became a twig and a squirrel landed upon the pointy end..."
I move closer and peer through a bush, my vision closely scans his features whilst my eyes remain in my head behind the foliage. His mouth opens then closes then opens again and closes again as his words come out of it to travel around the ears and minds of the four listeners. One is old, another is so old she is transparent, and the other two are young. The bard's words float and flit..
"...he throws the twig up a tree and looks through the squirrel's eyes to see if he can find the symbol that he saw the day before, but instead he spies from the height of the tree a clearing in the yonder where shady shapes with twirling ochres blend their motions in spectral browns between the barks of the trees, and they seem to throw a potato to each other..."
Tis not a tale I have heard before, and when I turn to leave I see the arc of the sky as a lark begins to sing of secret things that send my eyes swooning into the back of my mind and beyond on and on and on until I find myself elsewhere where there are silent symbols that curl and sway this way and that day all around and around my eyes which are floating and flowing in a notion of swirling magic potions containing squirrel's hearts and cuckoo parts... I seem to be upon a floor and hear the sound of a door as my eyes begin to open someone's mouth becomes spoken then I focus upon a shape and all my mouth becomes agape for this mouth is mine to claim and with it I exclaim..
"Something so big and fat must be Betty Aquabat!!!"
....to be continued when the part appears before me again....
*********oOo*********
...I can see it approaching in a round about way from there to here...
THE PART TEN BEGINS.
I awaken from this experience to find myself lying on the ceiling of my cave, and as soon as I notice where I am I crash to the ground. I also notice my mind still seems to be occupied by the presence of Betty Aquabat, otherwise known as Big Betty the Barmy Witch of Bedlam. As I stand up in a groggy state, it is clear to me she has cast some spell on me, but how I returned here is unclear.
My memory travels into the past to find itself traveling through the dark kingdom of Bedlam, and sees itself before it became a memory. This is where I made her aquaintance one dark and stormy night at the foot of the Bedlam Mountains, to the accompaniment of cracking thunder rolls and tree blistering strikes of lightning. Sheets of rain tore across like near-horizontal arrows that pummeled all things that they venomously smashed into. It was indeed an invigorating night.
I had taken refuge at the foot of a ledge on the more sheltered side of the mountains. At least a dozen trees flew past, one by one, into the vortex of the dark night, and three hedges too. A lightning bolt burst a boulder and illuminated a startling face that closely stared at me in a flash of light.
"HELLOOOO!!" bellowed it's mouth, though barely audibly.
"WWHHAAAAAA!!!!!" I replied, as the face was plunged into a maelstrom of darkness again.
Two arms then seemed to lift me up and put me onto their body which carried me through the storm with a fast grip, and an occasional pat on the backside. As I was transported thus, my view was intermittently illuminated but all I could see were flashes of the muddied earth being thrashed by the crazed rain.
Presently the sound of the storm became somewhat dulled and the wind and rain ceased to strike me, and I was dropped onto dry ground. The air was now still, and a flickering light shone from a lantern nearby which partially showed to me a rock interior decorated with patterned hangings and dried plants. There were some basic items of furniture amongst the twitching shadows and an incense was in the air. Then a large figure loomed above me dripping and sodden with rain, then a face appeared, which was the face I'd seen in the flash of lightning, all matted and plastered with dark hair.
"Now then," said the face "what do we have here then... 'tis... a... wizard! HOO HOO-HOO HOOOOOO!!!!"
I was destined to spend the rest of that winter in and about Big Betty's abode, it was a strange time to say the least. Not least due to the fact that we would trade spells and demonstrate them on one another, including experimental ones and mental ones. Sometimes it was difficult to know who or what went where and when, but when it did it was pleasant enough. Then one day, as spring began to sprinkle itself from the earth and into the air, Big Betty said she did not wish to trade spells anymore because her knees had started to grow Wortleberries, and she did'nt like it. I looked at the Wortleberries and had to agree that maybe it was time for us to part.
I have never seen her since then until now, and now it seems, by means of craft and potion, she inhabits a hollow in my head. I had previously surmised that the eyes of the maiden who saw me fly up and fall out of a tree were descended from Big Betty the Barmy Witch of Bedlam, and consequently I was aware she now lived in these parts. But why she has decided to cast some spell upon me, I know not yet.
Looking out of my cave as the evening draws in with hardly a breeze, I wonder where I have been since seeing the bard telling the tale of the squirrel on a twig earlier today, and how it was I returned here. All I know is I feel incredibly tired.
....a continued form of things will become apparent when they begin to form themselves from this point...
*********oOo*********
