The taste of the weather changing is refreshing. The smell of it, almost a sweetness, a rejuvenating feeling that starts from the inside out. I love this season. It reminds me of my old home. I get a feeling of those around me, not the same as my own feelings, but one of pending challenge. I see it as beauty and awakening. This is the time of year we find moss to cover the ground were we dug up the peach trees and we bring them inside the grove halls. Rather like make shift halls, we move them around. Rotating the soils. We only move them every five years. A huge celebration for the moving of the trees so the soil doesn't get dried out. We don't pick the peaches that year, we let them fall for the bugs and worms. Celebration of Rot. Hm, I think its just a year of mead. I really could go for a peach and a cup of mulled mead right now.
Blushes would be pulling down jarred peaches for jams on warm breads, saying the heavy snows would be here soon. She knows how I like the cookies with the jelly centers when we come in from ice fishing. But not this winter. Not any winter ever again.
But wait, we were going North right? Yes. No, not really, their North wasn't really, My North. Not truly. I would love to see the crystal lands, and waters again. Drums telling of oars breaking glass ice and waves that dare keep men away. Here it was the taste of land, and wood, and grass and ground. I was a bit scared,and excited.
There wouldn't be tales of River Tharlorians, or Snow Larls, but I was curious what creatures would lurk for the Warriors here. I had tasted someone of the natural battles, learned to respect and fear. I found deep inside, I wish I could run and tell Von about the Fire, but it would be a stupid wish, and I hated myself for even thinking it.
I was nothing but...a slave. Some fair skinned red head slave, already three times owned among wagon people. I had at one time thought of wanting to go home. That was gone. I couldn't go home. What would I say? I had let my sister die. I still feel guilt for not going with her. Am I not her twin? I'm not even pure anymore, so, have no value to my Brother, I am not branded in flesh, but I know.
Its not so bad. I'm trying. Its hard. I just can't seem to let go of the past. Those fine little strings are still cutting me like salt in wounds. So, yes, there we go, my issues again. I'm having me issues. Maybe its like little red is still a caterpillar.
The little red bug is still crawling around with her little legs over her past, wanting it back, and carrying it around while her future is all around her.
Get the fuck over it little red bug.
The little red bug is crawling around with her little legs over her past, wanting it back, while her future is around her, and willing to teach her, help her, and is showing her the way to a better and more functioning life for red.
Get the fuck over it little red bug.
The little red bug is going to get fucking stepped on if she doesn't.
Goodness, I better get my shit together.
Blushes would be pulling down jarred peaches for jams on warm breads, saying the heavy snows would be here soon. She knows how I like the cookies with the jelly centers when we come in from ice fishing. But not this winter. Not any winter ever again.
But wait, we were going North right? Yes. No, not really, their North wasn't really, My North. Not truly. I would love to see the crystal lands, and waters again. Drums telling of oars breaking glass ice and waves that dare keep men away. Here it was the taste of land, and wood, and grass and ground. I was a bit scared,and excited.
There wouldn't be tales of River Tharlorians, or Snow Larls, but I was curious what creatures would lurk for the Warriors here. I had tasted someone of the natural battles, learned to respect and fear. I found deep inside, I wish I could run and tell Von about the Fire, but it would be a stupid wish, and I hated myself for even thinking it.
I was nothing but...a slave. Some fair skinned red head slave, already three times owned among wagon people. I had at one time thought of wanting to go home. That was gone. I couldn't go home. What would I say? I had let my sister die. I still feel guilt for not going with her. Am I not her twin? I'm not even pure anymore, so, have no value to my Brother, I am not branded in flesh, but I know.
Its not so bad. I'm trying. Its hard. I just can't seem to let go of the past. Those fine little strings are still cutting me like salt in wounds. So, yes, there we go, my issues again. I'm having me issues. Maybe its like little red is still a caterpillar.
The little red bug is still crawling around with her little legs over her past, wanting it back, and carrying it around while her future is all around her.
Get the fuck over it little red bug.
The little red bug is crawling around with her little legs over her past, wanting it back, while her future is around her, and willing to teach her, help her, and is showing her the way to a better and more functioning life for red.
Get the fuck over it little red bug.
The little red bug is going to get fucking stepped on if she doesn't.
Goodness, I better get my shit together.
0 comments:
Post a Comment