March 23, 2011 - 4:15pm — Seed
When I first woke up, I noticed a group, including Virgil and Ourania, on a hillside. I went to join them, and for a little while wasn't sure exactly what to do -- Virgil and his entourage were sitting, basking in the sunlight like a sect of lizards (Hmm. The collective noun for lizards...I know there is bound to be one. I shall ponder the matter further.) and Ourania, still full of energy and in the mood for a full frolic. I wasn't sure what to do -- I never am, times like these. I knew Ourania would join me if I sat...And that Virgil would let me go if I rose. I eventually decided to stick us all together, and sat down.
That was until Scape showed up. And this decision was so easy that I was away with only a small bow to excuse myself. Ourania, to my pleasant surprise, joined me. It has been ages since I saw Scape last. We greeted eachother with shock and joy, and commenced doing what we do best: silly walks. Turning circles in and out, skipping little half-leaps around eachother in small, self-contained patterns like the jumbling of particles in air. And, of course, playing with the trees, nuzzling them and rubbing against each other. A few times it was a little embaressing -- I mean, undestand that when I planned it, it was his side I was rubbing my cheek against and not -- oh, nevermind. It was funny enough.
It's interesting. I hadn't really thought about how much sitting down I've been doing with most of my time. How little running or playing. Until then, anyway: it was like stretching after a long sleep, and waking up to feel the bright spring air on your face. The season's changed; it's time for fancy-free frolicking, for frisky fun in the green woods. I'll need to remember that. Maybe, if I asked, my friends who are more inclined to thoughtful rest would join me... I'll just...have to work up the courage to ask. They would, right? Right.
Feeling unusually high-spirited as I was, I proposed a game of hide-and-go seek. For only the first round (where I hid in my preffered playground rock) was I the only one hiding. Once Scape sniffed me out, they both took off like a shot! I found Ourania hidden away in the Oak, and Scape artfully tucked away in the riverbank -- I'm still no good at such things, really, so I can't help but envy his skill. We had a quick splash in the river before it was Ourania's turn to hunt. Scape and I, thinking alike, both hid in the ruins. I snuck, ghost-like, into a large chunk of wall that nearly fooled her -- nearly. He, meanwhile, hid high in the rafters, among the creeping ivy. In plain sight, really -- provided you thought to look up. The next round, Scape hunted Ourania and I; I went and hid within the poem-etched stones of my beloved bridge, and Ourania in a birch -- and as a fawn, at that. We all agreed to switch forms, to hide better with. The final round was mine for seeking: I can't even recall where Scape hid, only that I found him quickly. Ourania was struggling with the deep river section, alternating between being under the water and in it as a frog, and the motion gave her away too quick.
...I am, I admit, sometimes too preoccupied with the idea that if there are 'real' deer, then there are things that are 'unreal.' Like myself; like this world, the only one I've ever had, where you and an object can be one, where things can touch and blend with one another, where things that look solid might be, but are also things you can swim through, like water or air. Fluid, like nature, and rigid like it, too. What is an 'unreal' world? A dream? When the dream is over, and the dreamer awakens, I sometimes worry, the "real deer," the things only in the shape of deer for the moment, the beings from other worlds... They'll go home. And then...what of me?
And then I see him. And then I play a night away like this, laughing in the sun. And I'm out of worries -- they're all washed away in the golden light, torn down by the sound of laughter like the walls of Jericho. This world is as real as any other. This world is more real than any other, and in the shelter of those moments, the slate of my heart is wiped innocent and clean...
And so I slept peacefully beneath my bridge, returning home for the first time in a long time, and drowsed off to my own words, played with by the reflections of light on water, of water on light.
((I need to do more diaries. Hm.)
Scape: 'Envy my skill'?
And as a fawn, he hid in De Drinkplaats fountain. X]
"Yes, but you accomplished it
Aaah, thanks. I was trying to remember. ^^
Scape: I just copied what
"I'll have to try that