Though his memories were vague, he thought he remembered the beginning. He had had a sense of closeness, of comfort. He remembered slowly feeling trapped and, eventually breaking free from the shell enclosing his body. Then, his world infinitely expanded, he had looked around, and experienced wonder. Wonder at the enormous sky, the shining sun, the gleaming grass. For the first time in his life, he saw colour. He also heard sounds that, moments before, he hadn’t known were muffled, having had no reference for the concept. For the first time ever, he felt the freedom movement, unconstrained but for gravity … and mere moments later, he felt fear as his brother vanished before his eyes, snatched by a tremendous green monster. The speed of it’s strike shook the leaf and he fell.
The fall, he remembered quite clearly. He remembered the rushing air, huge spikes of grass speeding past his face, and the body-jarring shock when he finally hit the ground.
Winded, he had lain there for a long time, trying to place meaning around what had just happened. Eventually and with great caution, he crept out on to a branch and, carefully bit into a leaf. He almost lost himself in the sensation, the flavor, the juiciness, the crunch. Every bite was a tiny slice of utter perfection. It was only the trauma of his earliest moments that allowed him to keep a kernel of self awareness, so he knew when to drop, when to run, and when to hide from those larger and considerably more dangerous than himself.
He was lucky and, as time went by, He grew and grew.
As time went by, he learned about birds, and how to stay under the leaves to avoid them. He knew about mantids and how to watch for their heads, silhouetted against the sky. He grew defenses against most attacks and, with his increased size, most of his enemies seemed fearful and more inclined to pursue easier prey.
Eventually, the initial glory of his world began to tarnish. He’d seen it all before, and his days become nothing but unending repetition. He grew sluggish, feeling that there was little point. One day, he just stopped, and hung on a twig, scarcely aware that his skin was changing. As his heart had grown hardened to the world around him, his skin hardened and, walled off from the world once again, he slept.
Weeks later, when he awoke, he felt different, but like before, felt trapped. This time, though, he knew how to respond and ripped his way free. Then, he rested and explored his new self. Everything was different. The world itself looked different, with more vibrant colour and tastes in the air. He found himself ravenous once more … not for food, but for exploration. Unlike last time, there was no attack, just a slight gust of wind, and he found him falling once more.
This time, though, he didn’t fall for long. Moving muscles he didn’t know he possessed, he found himself falling slowly and, eventually, falling upwards. At first, he did not know what to make of the experience, but soon, he found himself soaring the breezes, exploring lands he’d only once glimpsed from a distance from atop the tallest plants.
He’d experienced a lot in those first few days. Birds were still a problem, but most of his enemies from his older life were laughingly easy to avoid. One twitch and he was airborne, leaving them grasping in his general direction and he soared away, victorious. His sense of smell was much stronger and he learned about flowers. His first flower was much like his first leaf, and he lost himself within it, emerging coated with sticky nectar but no longer hungry. He followed the scent from flower to flower, choosing only the best parts of each for, unlike leaves, flowers were complex and he quickly grew accustomed to taking only the best for himself, leaving the rest to the masses of bees that shared his sky.
Life went on in the manner, days an orgy of scent, flavor, color, and motion. Nights spent resting in safety. Until one day he smelled a different scent in their air. Following it for what seemed like forever, he eventually traced it to someone. She was stunning. Their courtship was intense, but brief. In the end, he felt sated in a way he never had before, no matter how much he ate.
He’d lost her to a particularly strong burst of wind and went back to his flowers before exploring further afield. Over time, his explorations took a toll. He grew increasingly tired as the days grew increasingly cold and the flowers grew scarce. That was okay, though, for he found he wasn’t as hungry as before. He was less and less willing to explore, being content to sit and to ponder.
He thought about the glory of new experience and the pang of sudden loss. He thought of fear and love and sadness and joy. He thought of all he had seen, everywhere he had been. He’d been trapped twice, once by the shell of another and once by the shell of himself. Now he was trapped simply by the weight of his life, lacking the energy to move. A part of him wanted to soar one last time, to have one last experience, but he was trapped again, but exhaustion, by remembrance.
Was it, in the end, worth it? Had there been meaning in his life? Should there have been?
He didn’t know, but he thought these were questions worth pondering for a little while longer.
Originally posted at stories.starmind.org.
If I Were The Rain, Out Of The Light and Child Of Stars.
We haven't done any of those songs in ages.We may have to pull a couple of them out for the set with Susan in Chicago!
And now we are writing a ridiculous amount of new music. 19 songs this year on our Patreon page. We're several songs into the next CD, Callenwood is coming along nicely. There are songs from this project that will probably never show up anywhere else, they don't fit Cheshire Moon. But we are going to come up with a good album worth of stuff on just random songs alone as well as all the Callenwood songs.
Two brand new albums, two more well on their way. A good amount of live shows coming up. At least one more serious road trip this year. The new songs are coming to life live.
This is the most exciting time of my creative life. I blame Lizzie!
I mentioned over on Facebook a while back that I did something I’ve wanted to do for over a decade, but that I couldn’t talk about it yet. I can talk about it now.
Behold, a two day old Pallas Cat* kitten from Red River Zoo. I just happened to be there shortly after the birth and, because I have worked with the zoo before, we found a way for me to take photos without bothering the mother. Pallas Cats are notoriously grouchy and frightful and if the photoshoot distressed the mother, it could have boded ill for the kittens. Because the kittens are at high risk in their first 21 days, they are kept off exhibit and monitored from afar.
To get this shot, I was about fifty feet** away. The kittens were in a very dark part of the enclosure and were so very tiny. I am going to guess that this kitten head was about the size of a large grape*** when I took the photo. I didn’t have my best lens with me and I couldn’t use a tripod, as it could scare the mother. Really, I am quite lucky to get this shot.
In looking through the other photos, I thought I counted about five fuzzy lumps, which seemed like a lot. Nonetheless, I told the zoo that I was pretty confident that I saw three**** heads and there might be as many as five**** in there. As it turns out, the magic number was actually five. See official announcement here: https://www.facebook.com/redriverzoo/
Like much wildlife, Pallas cats are facing a declining population due to habitat destruction, being hunted for their fur, and poisoning campaigns that are intended to control the pika. The Red River Zoo has a strong history of helping to preserve this species. I was fortunate last summer to take photos of their new male, brought in to add genetic diversity to the reserve population in zoos. It’s very nice to see that he’s been doing his job.
Cute as they are, you don’t want them as pets. The Pallas cat has been described as being one of the meanest cats out there, having evolved in extreme isolation. I have been told that the kittens are born growling. Then a few weeks later, their eyes open and they start growling *at* things.
So while it’s not the world’s greatest photo, I am extremely pleased to be able to share it.
* “Manul” for those of you from northern Asian countries
** 15m for those of you from civilized countries
*** A kumquat for those of you from delicious countries
**** III and V for those of you from ancient countries
Originally posted at stories.starmind.org.