June 26, 2010 - 2:29pm — Seed
The rainy air has its own smell; it has a little rot in it, and a little bit of the promise of new growth. It smells like the bottom of ponds and, I think, of mystery. Today the rain smelled like cool northern lands, and of distant icy seas.
Today, also, it smelled like I wasn't going to be doing much. I wandered around, exchanged gifts of flowers with a stranger, watched two deer give each other spells and turn into crows, sat with a crow-deer, and wandered over to the Oak, where I sat and watched the rain for a while. Eventually, a few others joined me under the great cavern of the oak, who told me little dreams about the rain.
The rain, she told me, is the tears of a crying idol so big that no deer can make sense of it, and so they call it the sky -- we're all inside her, and her tears drip down over all of us on a day like today. The rain is music the gods are playing on the instrument of the world, shaking the water and making a gentle sound where it strikes the ground. The rain, she told me, is the often unseen sky reminding us that it exists. I may have elaborated, here and there, but that's what she said, at the heart of matters.
Eventually, I noticed the sound of Virgil -- the distinctive fall of his hooves, the little humm made from the light of his name, and so I went to see him. He was sitting with some company. Poltergeist was breathing heavily – I think her baby was finally on its way, lured out by the smell of rain. I know we know little of each other, but I was glad to be able to offer whatever feeble support I could as she shifted restlessly in the rain – eventually Virgil left Poltergeist, Trees, and I in the rain, which pittered down around us, until we all eventually fell asleep.
When I woke up, Saosin was next to me. He gave my rain-soaked back a nice rub, the ridged sound of bone on scale not unlike the sound of rain on hard treebark above us. We danced with a fawn who showed up until he sensed Ravynn was near, and, naturally, departed. I let him go off to see her, and entertained the fawn a while more with my company before heading back to the comfort of the Oak. Eventually, the fawn found me there as I decided to end my day.
"He gave my rain-soaked back
I could really imagine that sound. <3 And I really like that sentence.
I also like Mother Oak's theory on the rain.
*Still loves your writing and