Puddle: A Tale for the Curious by Elena Bozzi

Author:Elena Bozzi
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: meditation, forest magic, energy healings, nature appreciation, garden fantasy, healer within, forest adventure, forest world, magic and science, compassion and love

*~*

Puddle and I commenced our hunt for the market. It wasn’t much of a hunt, but we had fun pretending to sneak about so we wouldn’t scare it away. Being a market, it didn’t scare very easily.

The forest opened into a glade, where sunbeams sifted dust and pollen together into sparkling magic. The glade was lined with stalls, tables, rugs, and buckets. Wooden trunks held my entire imagination until I got close enough to see inside. The market looked like my garden, in its ordered chaos. The main aisles left enough browsing space, but it still appeared a little difficult to weave through with the vines and limbs of everyone around.

Along the paths of the marketplace, trees traded tales and wares. A tree’s need for material things was minimal. They took delight in adding extra bird and bat houses to their groves, and sparkly bits to keep the nature spirits and crows happy. We passed strange and secret things, concoctions in colorful bottles, and shovels. We sniffed teas, and carved boxes of spicy scented resins. Incense caressed my mind. Stones were carved into shapes, and crystals still had their roots on them, so they could be put into rich soil and grown. Strings of beads, jingles, and little mirrors made the slight breeze sing and sparkle. One stop had jars of valerian root, with its sleepy old sock smell.

“Hello saplings,” greeted a voice with administrative edge. We turned to see Hawthorn surveying the market. “I trust you are enjoying the Festival.”

“Yes, quite,” Puddle replied. “We have learned so much.”

“And we have delighted in the tastiest meals I’ve ever eaten,” I said. “Rowan just told an amazing story. You saved everyone with your thorns. It was wonderful.”

“Ah, that one,” said Hawthorn. “That one has survived many generations, but you give me too much credit. The final solution was built upon the attempts of those before me. We worked together, and I just brought the right tools for the job.”

“Do you suppose Pine would not pop in the fire had the thorn landed elsewhere?” I asked.

“Perhaps. Perhaps the robin would lay purple eggs had it eaten bergamot rather than the sky piece.”

“I am unfamiliar with that tale,” Puddle surmised.

“Another time then,” said Hawthorn. “Rowan for the stories, and I for portents and protection. There are days I would have preferred a different job. Still, I find my work fulfilling and accept my responsibilities. They keep me balanced and grounded. Go to the meeting today. It would do you good.”

“What meeting?” I asked.

“The one today. Go to the Stone Circle when the sun is halfway between the zenith and the horizon.”

“What’s the zenith?”

“Straight above your head.”

“Cool.”

“My future sight is fuzzier than my present sight. I only see that you would be wise to attend the meeting. Dawdle another day.”

“Hey, we never dawdle,” I objected. “Well, maybe sometimes. Isn’t dawdling healthy for you?”

“I would say so,” said Puddle. “To dawdle is to bask in the enjoyment of life.”

“Just not today,” instructed Hawthorn. “See my thorns.

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