Yeah, I'm a month early with April but, on this cold, snowy, sleeting late winter day -- I think we all need some April, some tales of the mysterious wood.
by Della Marinis
originally from Fürst Told Blog, April 13, 2010
I walked ahead because the others dragged their feet. The woods were damp and cool that morning and the sky a deep blue I hadn’t seen in months. The scent was resonant, speaking something other than the city so that I became lost in it and didn’t hear the approaching crackle of leaves underfoot. Not at first.
Then I turned and scanned the stretch of birch, alder and pine for a face. I could see no one, just a low, swinging branch. Someone was there but had gone.
There was soft April light ahead and it drew me further in, nonchalantly, a smiling forest in a dawning season. Another quivering limb, this time ahead, and I knew I was on the trail of something. Something smaller than a person but larger than a bread box. I picked up speed.
A glossy coat darted across my path and then slipped behind a tree. I expected it to be white but it was dark, coal black and coarse but oddly gentle against the spiky brush of the forest. Still, I felt a little like Alice chasing the rabbit, on the edge of an adventure.
I steered clear of the mossy logs and (bottomless) holes camouflaged beneath the leaves. Where was everyone? I had set my own path and behind me the trees were quiet but for the clear phrases of the Song Thrush. Then it caught my eye again – the black knight trotted swiftly between heavy trunks, still playing his hand.
Finally I came to a stream that was cold and flowing fast, carrying along young leaves, clinging like cupped vessels for beetle-sized riders. I waited there, plunking in stones that I imagined lifted his spry ears. But I couldn’t see my absconder. I saw nothing but a whisper of his stare through the leaves.
I lost the trail but found my friends and once at home again, felt restless. I looked around absently until it dawned on me something bigger than a bread box was missing. Something not there before, but clearly gone.
I thought my wants started with want, but have discovered it’s the thing itself that sets the chase. Like the white rabbit. Down the path. It seems he’s out there and wants to be found.
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An evocative bijou from my fabulous, Berlin dwelling cousin Della Marinis. She writes
young adult fiction, has been a teacher, a toiler in the HR fields, has
two amazing kids, a tremendous husband (Martin), is fluent in Dutch and German and she's 9 kinds of wise and funny besides.
originally from Fürst Told Blog, April 13, 2010
I walked ahead because the others dragged their feet. The woods were damp and cool that morning and the sky a deep blue I hadn’t seen in months. The scent was resonant, speaking something other than the city so that I became lost in it and didn’t hear the approaching crackle of leaves underfoot. Not at first.
Then I turned and scanned the stretch of birch, alder and pine for a face. I could see no one, just a low, swinging branch. Someone was there but had gone.
There was soft April light ahead and it drew me further in, nonchalantly, a smiling forest in a dawning season. Another quivering limb, this time ahead, and I knew I was on the trail of something. Something smaller than a person but larger than a bread box. I picked up speed.
A glossy coat darted across my path and then slipped behind a tree. I expected it to be white but it was dark, coal black and coarse but oddly gentle against the spiky brush of the forest. Still, I felt a little like Alice chasing the rabbit, on the edge of an adventure.
I steered clear of the mossy logs and (bottomless) holes camouflaged beneath the leaves. Where was everyone? I had set my own path and behind me the trees were quiet but for the clear phrases of the Song Thrush. Then it caught my eye again – the black knight trotted swiftly between heavy trunks, still playing his hand.
I lost the trail but found my friends and once at home again, felt restless. I looked around absently until it dawned on me something bigger than a bread box was missing. Something not there before, but clearly gone.
I thought my wants started with want, but have discovered it’s the thing itself that sets the chase. Like the white rabbit. Down the path. It seems he’s out there and wants to be found.
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