(no subject)

The first time I saw the Forest I didn’t know any words yet. Ma was likely hanging the washing or somesuch and had taken me outside.

Maybe it’s just a story I tell myself. That I remember. I must have been a very small baby at the time, and you are probably not supposed to remember things you see while you are that little.

But I do.

We were at the house, and the angle in my memory is right. Almost lying on the ground. She likely propped my cot up a little at one end so she could see me from where the clothesline is. Was. It must have been early in the morning, cause the sun was coming from behind the house leaving me in shadows. But it would beat down on the yard soon enough. Turning the earth to yellow dust.

Babies can’t really see all that far. And they see eyes best. And mouths. Up close and smiling. But I – I saw the Forest that day. Encircling the bit of land the house was built upon, looming behind the barn, and stretching far into the horizon. Of course, I didn’t see that part of it, being on the ground and in a cot and all. But it did.

And you could go on forever and ever and never start to walk out of it again. City people don’t know that. Don’t understand that.

A forest is no map – and the map you have? Doesn’t show the Forest. Not for real.

I saw it, all green and dark and golden, offering shade in the sun and beauty in the night and a thousand sounds and smell. Saw it offer life and brutal death and the silence between every beat of a frail human heart.

I saw it. And I loved it. Loved it and feared it and brought it gifts. When I got old enough.


And it gave me Callie.


Count: 323
Muse: Clay
Fandom: Passion of Darkly Noon (Misc. Movies)