spinning and sharing

A hot breeze leads to a tree leads to…items!

In Pilgrimmage on September 21, 2010 at 4:20 am

It was a hot breeze.

“Lord, Lord Lord! “

“Can you give me the question?”

Is it North, South, West?

Where do we go?

“I don’t know.”

“Isn’t this just our lucky day.”

You just have to breath

In the hot breeze.

He walked quickly into the tree, Belinda following too close for his taste.  It was dark and the musty smell of old wood assailed his nose and mouth and he could taste it a little.

“It’s so old here,” she said and immediately he decided that the smell was richly good.

Not quite pitch black, they scanned the lines of twisting tree limbs along the walls and furniture like royal purple lightning streaking shapes upon the walls and he thought for a brief moment standing on the floor that they were floating in space but underground.   A light went on.

The ground became brown packed earth.  The lines of the inner limbs became branches that stood out like brown scars.  The dark sky became the ceiling where the great limbs met.  The tree was hollowed out and massive, but it was a dwelling with carpet and chairs and a small sofa and bookcase.  There were too rooms with doors.  There was a second level with a bumpy railing going halfway around the house.

“Almost fell a few times before, up there, keeping my balance in the night.  Lean on something too much and it’ll let you down,” Dolamer stepped out of a room, his eyes on a book in his hands thumbing through pages.  He mumbled: “Here it is.”

Tyr and Belinda stayed silent as Dolamer stood there and read silently.  He seemed to have forgotten they were there.

“Must be important,” Belinda whispered.


“Or he just never noticed we were here because he’s old and daft!”


“He meant to say, ‘fell a few times from up there…never was the same again.”

“That’s not it.” Tyr couldn’t believe her and he wanted to tell her to shut up.

“What’s one of the first things that goes when you start to get old?” She was looking at him and nearly grinning.  “Your personal hygiene and cleanliness, that’s what.  So now we know what accounts for the smell in here.”

Shutup!” Tyr bristled right at her.  Belinda pursed her lips in a guilty smile and shrugged her shoulders at him as if she was a guilty child who knew she would not be punished but for her cuteness.  Tyr stared at her from the corner of his eyes, mouth open in disgust.  His anger suddenly drained away into embarrassment and she must have felt the same for their eyes turned in unison towards their host.  He was looking at them.

“Two of you done?” These were his first words directed at them; his voice was big and gruff but also warm.  Tyr felt a little more at ease.

“Sorry for our rudeness, sir,” Tyr said and as he said it he bowed slightly with his head and couldn’t see Belinda roll her eyes but knew she that she had.

“No need for apologies, rude of me to stand here reading while you and Belinda have come a ways to see me.  Sit down over here.”

Tyr looked at Belinda quizzically but she didn’t show she noticed.

They sat down on a red couch in front of the black iron fireplace.  Dolamer had fashioned the tree dwelling himself nearly thirty years ago, including the fireplace he only used during the coldest days of winter.  Dolamer brought cups of cool blue tea water and set them down on the small oak table roughly.  Try drank and remembered looking at that great tree, bark almost as white as the snow and standing out against the snow and still green trees with grey smoke rising up into the white sky and running into the clouds.  The giant natural furnace that as a child he didn’t dare go near or imagine he would enter, and as the three of them sat quietly he closed his eyes briefly and thought that this journey was finally becoming real.

“You are Tyr, and together with my niece you’re going on a journey is that right?”

“You’re Belinda’s uncle?” Tyr couldn’t believe it.


“Uncle Dolamer…”

He led them to another room and where lay a chest of walnut that Dolamer opened and began taking things out of to lay on the table.  First, a knife with a dark blue handle whose blade


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