03-28-2010, 06:06 AM
word count: 419
Finally. The snow was melting, the grass was sprouting, and the air was warming. Winter wasn't quite gone, and spring wasn't quite here yet, but it was close and Cerridwyn was so happy she could barely contain herself. She had awakened this morning to the first dandelion of the season right outside her little thicket, and her morning devotional had carried a joyful note. When the dandelion went to seed she would center a personal celebration of spring around it and keep the stem until summer solstice.
On this particular morning she knelt in the woods just at the line of the beach, where the sand barely began, head down and hands on the earth. She hummed to herself, a tuneless but lilting melody. There was no ritual here, simply an attuning with Danu and the tri-color's favorite season. She could feel the brimming power of the sleeping seeds within the ground, ready to explode in their quiet manner to turn the barren land into a lush, green carpet.
After a few more moments she stood gracefully, gripping her forked staff and facing the ocean. She hadn't been back out here since the day she'd washed up, and she figured that the first day that spring showed its face was a perfect time to have a walk along the shore, a place of which she'd been shy since she'd spent those days surrounded by saltwater. She took a deep breath and struck out.
She lost track of time as she wandered along the coastline, the lighthouse on a fork of land a vague goal but not one to which she was in any hurry to reach. She did eventually make it there, though, as Danu was just shy of her zenith in the sky, and that was when she noticed a cream-colored figure huddled against one of the walls of the structure. She approached him at a steady pace, positively radiating jubilation. She paused for a moment as she saw that he was preoccupied; he had one of those -- what were they? Books. He had a book in his lap, one of those things that told you stories without talking, she hadn't quite figured those out yet. Cerridwyn began her approach once more a little more timidly toward the adolescent, though her mood was still radiant. "'Ello, there," she said in a friendly tone. "D'ye mind if I join ye? Th' day's jus' too pretty to spend it alone." She gave him a winning smile, chocolate eyes dancing.
Finally. The snow was melting, the grass was sprouting, and the air was warming. Winter wasn't quite gone, and spring wasn't quite here yet, but it was close and Cerridwyn was so happy she could barely contain herself. She had awakened this morning to the first dandelion of the season right outside her little thicket, and her morning devotional had carried a joyful note. When the dandelion went to seed she would center a personal celebration of spring around it and keep the stem until summer solstice.
On this particular morning she knelt in the woods just at the line of the beach, where the sand barely began, head down and hands on the earth. She hummed to herself, a tuneless but lilting melody. There was no ritual here, simply an attuning with Danu and the tri-color's favorite season. She could feel the brimming power of the sleeping seeds within the ground, ready to explode in their quiet manner to turn the barren land into a lush, green carpet.
After a few more moments she stood gracefully, gripping her forked staff and facing the ocean. She hadn't been back out here since the day she'd washed up, and she figured that the first day that spring showed its face was a perfect time to have a walk along the shore, a place of which she'd been shy since she'd spent those days surrounded by saltwater. She took a deep breath and struck out.
She lost track of time as she wandered along the coastline, the lighthouse on a fork of land a vague goal but not one to which she was in any hurry to reach. She did eventually make it there, though, as Danu was just shy of her zenith in the sky, and that was when she noticed a cream-colored figure huddled against one of the walls of the structure. She approached him at a steady pace, positively radiating jubilation. She paused for a moment as she saw that he was preoccupied; he had one of those -- what were they? Books. He had a book in his lap, one of those things that told you stories without talking, she hadn't quite figured those out yet. Cerridwyn began her approach once more a little more timidly toward the adolescent, though her mood was still radiant. "'Ello, there," she said in a friendly tone. "D'ye mind if I join ye? Th' day's jus' too pretty to spend it alone." She gave him a winning smile, chocolate eyes dancing.