Post by goldenmyst on May 24, 2021 21:22:24 GMT -6
Grey Wool & Little Feather
When the earth thawed, Mammoths found their personal Manhattan in the Pacific Northwest but with their own trumpet instead of car horns. Mammoths were among the original vegans and the island was like getting to raid the 24-hour salad bar on a cruise ship. They were luckier than pigeons in Yankee Stadium with walnuts as leftovers instead of popcorn.
The hairy behemoths became grandparent figures for the humans. Thereby the sacred purpose of the lumbering beasts no longer required sacrifice.
A girl back in the great north rode the mighty beast that dodged totem poles in the land of the ancients.
The hairy behemoth knocked down a dozen of the poles. And the elder of the Inuit society for the preservation of ancient sites had the girl do community service by raising them with a block and tackle long before Archimedes took credit for the invention of the device.
But the girl’s friendship with the woolly mammoth led her into more trouble. The offering of nuts and fruits was laid out for the shaman to sanctify for the Gods. Yet the lumbering creature gazed hungrily at the feast before his eyes.
The girl considered that giving a few of the honeyed walnuts for her friend’s repast surely wouldn’t offend the totemic beings. So she proffered the goodies with a pure heart and intent. But soon it was clear that the mammoth intended to devour it all and who was the puny human to come in the way of such a gigantic creature?
After the food for the Gods was gone the girl devised an excuse to avoid her implication. She wished no blame to come upon her hairy friend yet knew well the consequences of her own blame. So she said a marauding pack of squirrels was at fault. She caught them at the very end of their feast.
The Elder told the girl that she should have shooed off the harmless creatures. Had it been a huge mammoth he would have understood.
The girl said, “Father, I fed the creature of God thinking he would be satisfied with a few morsels. But his appetite grew until the entire offering was his for the taking. Please do not punish him for he is my friend and meant no harm.”
The Elder replied, “Why on earth would I even wish penance on such an innocent and unknowing being? Such a friendship as you have with that mammoth is smiled upon by the Great Spirit. Continue sharing the bounty of the land with your friend. In fact, it shall be your mission in life.” So the girl collected nuts and berries for the deity. While in the boreal forest she was sure to feed her friend walnuts not intended for the offering.
One day the girl watched the last of his kind shake the hoarfrost off his woolly hair before lumbering onto a floe only to use his flanks as ballasts while seeking the grass-sea where the wild tundra scent blows.
She called to him, “Don’t go to your ancestral graveyard to die. Please, your place is here on the island where I can feed you walnuts to restore your health.” He blew steam upon stepping off on his vision quest. Her tears followed him as he set off to join the burial ground of his brethren in the land of the midnight sun.
She chanted to quell her pining to usher him to his final resting place before the happy grazing ground. She knew of the predators on the way such as polar bears and saber-tooth tigers but her heart told her to be by his side on his last journey.
So her parents were surprised when the next morning her bag of spears was gone along with her.
She trekked her friend’s footprints on the lacey ice. They tread the late Arctic spring snow in a march to destiny. Then to her shock, there were hunters roaming on the horizon. She was in no danger but Grey Wool would be of interest to the hunters. But she had thought ahead.
She took several of her spears and coated them with the red paint that she had brought along that her tribesmen used for ceremonies. With all her strength she threw the spears in the direction of the men. They would think there was a party of competitors and hopefully would not have a stomach for a fight over her friend. Soon the men came close enough to find the red spears and picked them up to examine. One waved to the other and they ran in the other direction.
After hours on the tundra, she saw a sight that gave her both relief as a safe journey and deep sorrow at what it meant.
There was a mountain of ivory. Grey Wool was ready to rest and fell on his side and closed his eyes. She laid her head on his stomach and felt his breath grow shallow and ragged only to cease.
With a heavy heart, she made the journey home. Her parents were happily surprised when after a week she showed up a few spears short of what she left with but healthy and unharmed. Her mother asked her, “Did he make it there?”
The girl replied, “Oh Mom, my heart was black with mourning. I had to be with him.”
Her Mom said, “You were much too young for such a trip. Much as my mother’s heart ached for your return I am so happy to have you back.”
When the shadow of sage smoke was cast on the girl, the fire silhouetted her in a raven shawl whose black feathers flapped when she danced her sorrow on wings of love.
When the earth thawed, Mammoths found their personal Manhattan in the Pacific Northwest but with their own trumpet instead of car horns. Mammoths were among the original vegans and the island was like getting to raid the 24-hour salad bar on a cruise ship. They were luckier than pigeons in Yankee Stadium with walnuts as leftovers instead of popcorn.
The hairy behemoths became grandparent figures for the humans. Thereby the sacred purpose of the lumbering beasts no longer required sacrifice.
A girl back in the great north rode the mighty beast that dodged totem poles in the land of the ancients.
The hairy behemoth knocked down a dozen of the poles. And the elder of the Inuit society for the preservation of ancient sites had the girl do community service by raising them with a block and tackle long before Archimedes took credit for the invention of the device.
But the girl’s friendship with the woolly mammoth led her into more trouble. The offering of nuts and fruits was laid out for the shaman to sanctify for the Gods. Yet the lumbering creature gazed hungrily at the feast before his eyes.
The girl considered that giving a few of the honeyed walnuts for her friend’s repast surely wouldn’t offend the totemic beings. So she proffered the goodies with a pure heart and intent. But soon it was clear that the mammoth intended to devour it all and who was the puny human to come in the way of such a gigantic creature?
After the food for the Gods was gone the girl devised an excuse to avoid her implication. She wished no blame to come upon her hairy friend yet knew well the consequences of her own blame. So she said a marauding pack of squirrels was at fault. She caught them at the very end of their feast.
The Elder told the girl that she should have shooed off the harmless creatures. Had it been a huge mammoth he would have understood.
The girl said, “Father, I fed the creature of God thinking he would be satisfied with a few morsels. But his appetite grew until the entire offering was his for the taking. Please do not punish him for he is my friend and meant no harm.”
The Elder replied, “Why on earth would I even wish penance on such an innocent and unknowing being? Such a friendship as you have with that mammoth is smiled upon by the Great Spirit. Continue sharing the bounty of the land with your friend. In fact, it shall be your mission in life.” So the girl collected nuts and berries for the deity. While in the boreal forest she was sure to feed her friend walnuts not intended for the offering.
One day the girl watched the last of his kind shake the hoarfrost off his woolly hair before lumbering onto a floe only to use his flanks as ballasts while seeking the grass-sea where the wild tundra scent blows.
She called to him, “Don’t go to your ancestral graveyard to die. Please, your place is here on the island where I can feed you walnuts to restore your health.” He blew steam upon stepping off on his vision quest. Her tears followed him as he set off to join the burial ground of his brethren in the land of the midnight sun.
She chanted to quell her pining to usher him to his final resting place before the happy grazing ground. She knew of the predators on the way such as polar bears and saber-tooth tigers but her heart told her to be by his side on his last journey.
So her parents were surprised when the next morning her bag of spears was gone along with her.
She trekked her friend’s footprints on the lacey ice. They tread the late Arctic spring snow in a march to destiny. Then to her shock, there were hunters roaming on the horizon. She was in no danger but Grey Wool would be of interest to the hunters. But she had thought ahead.
She took several of her spears and coated them with the red paint that she had brought along that her tribesmen used for ceremonies. With all her strength she threw the spears in the direction of the men. They would think there was a party of competitors and hopefully would not have a stomach for a fight over her friend. Soon the men came close enough to find the red spears and picked them up to examine. One waved to the other and they ran in the other direction.
After hours on the tundra, she saw a sight that gave her both relief as a safe journey and deep sorrow at what it meant.
There was a mountain of ivory. Grey Wool was ready to rest and fell on his side and closed his eyes. She laid her head on his stomach and felt his breath grow shallow and ragged only to cease.
With a heavy heart, she made the journey home. Her parents were happily surprised when after a week she showed up a few spears short of what she left with but healthy and unharmed. Her mother asked her, “Did he make it there?”
The girl replied, “Oh Mom, my heart was black with mourning. I had to be with him.”
Her Mom said, “You were much too young for such a trip. Much as my mother’s heart ached for your return I am so happy to have you back.”
When the shadow of sage smoke was cast on the girl, the fire silhouetted her in a raven shawl whose black feathers flapped when she danced her sorrow on wings of love.
