Before Time began, before days and weeks and years, there was Author. Author lived alone at the top of the world, all by himself. Well, not really all by himself, because he had his Stories. The first Story he wrote was Earth. Author had delighted so in writing the Story of Earth, that he often went back and reread the chapters: land, sky, sea. Then he had also written the Story of Heavens. It was good thing that this was before time, because it took a long time to write the story of each star!
Now Author was writing a new story, and he was just enthralled with it. It was called Creatures. He had already written about creatures that filled the land, sky, and sea. But as Author sat beside the lake near his cabin, he saw himself smiling in the reflection of the water. “Ah-ha!” he exclaimed, pulling his pencil from his widening smile, and with frenzy he Authored a different kind of creature.
This creature was more like him than any of the others, and he loved it like his own dear Child. But Child was a little unruly at times, had a bit more boldness than any of his other creatures. Even as Author wrote its story Child would climb up in his lap and say, “Why you writing it this way? No, no, write this instead!”
Cedar
Long before the earth was formed; before the sky met the sea, and the sea met the shore, there was just Space. And deep within the thick, dark void was the Sun, the Moon, and one giant, cosmic Star.
The Star was always vying for Sun’s attention. He loved her golden hair that wrapped her face, and the fire-red of her lips and cheeks.
“Oh Sun!” the Star would say. “Look at me! Look how I outshine Moon. Look how I,” he searched for a very impressive word, “…twinkle!” Star flexed his sparkly chest and glistened like a thousand diamonds.
Sun would always return a polite smile, but her attention was ever with the Moon. Star was certainly thrilling to look at. But Sun enjoyed the smooth gray skin that covered Moon. It was simple, and humble.
Moon also loved Sun. He saw that it was her kindness that made her warm, and that her light was fueled by love.
Star saw how Sun cared deeply for Moon, so he tried harder to win her affection.
“Why do you have your sight set on that old ball of dust? He’s nothing but…but…” Star tried to think of cutting words but only stammered, “…an old ball of dust! Didn’t you see me twinkle?” Again, Star flexed and sparkled brighter than before.
“You are quite…twinkly,” said Sun to Star. “But the closer I am to the Moon, the brighter he shines.”
“But, Sun, don’t you see?” Said the Star. “We are the same kind, you and me. We’re both stars. That moon is just a rock.”
“And since we are both stars,” said the Sun, “we have no need for one another. We will only ever try to outshine each other. But the moon reflects my light, and that makes me feel brighter than ever.”
Star flexed again, only this time with fury. He shook with rage. From the deepest part of his jealousy, Star roared, and burst into a million pieces all throughout Space. Before Sun could react, Moon hurled himself in front of Sun as sharp pieces of Star pierced his once smooth skin.
—-timer—-
When the fury of star finally subsided, Space twinkled brilliantly. Moon lifted his eyes to Sun.
“Oh, Moon! Your beautiful smooth skin!” Moon looked away shamefully from Sun. “It’s more beautiful than ever!” Moon looked back up. “Whenever I look upon those scars, I will think of your deep sacrificial love for me.”
Her bright love blazed over the Moon and he shined – even twinkled – brighter than he ever had before.
Emily M.
Every time a yellow-orange flower opens on a squash plant, a fairy flies out.
Acorn squash, zucchini, pumpkins, butternut squash and all the other squashes: whenever a vine makes a flower, and the flower’s big petals unfurl for the first time: zing! The fairies are so fast, nobody sees them. If anyone sees one, they think it was a bee, and pay no attention.
There are many squash flowers in the fall. There are many, many fall fairies.
Fall fairies are nocturnal. During the day they sleep on beds of moss in secluded parts of the forest. Sometimes they sleep in the hollows of trees.
During the night, they dance. All night long! You should see their dances. They’re marvelous. The fairies never seem to get tired. They sing and clap their hands and laugh and twirl and zip to and fro in the air with wild energy.
There are so many fall fairies, that if you were to look outside in the middle of the night, if there was a bright moon, you would see them filling the air.
Their dance is also a game. The dance movements are so energetic, and there are so many fairies, that quite often someone will run out of room, and twirl and zip right into the trunk of a tree with a bonk. When that happens, all the fairies laugh.
Because something splendid happens every time a fall fairy hits a tree. All at once, all the leaves on the tree change color! The green leaves pop into orange, or yellow, or red. The fairies love to see this magic happen. You would too.
The fairies don’t ever hurt themselves doing this. They’re strong and resilient. When a fairy hits a tree, it bounces off again, laughing.
The fairies keep this up, night after night, until no green leaves are left.
Emily H
Burble was the god of all things ice-ish and cold, and he was in love with Steamstra, goddess of all things hot and humid. Steamstra was a true artist, and had made the rainforests and all the creatures within. The things she made were bursting with life and color and intrigue, and she gloried in it all. She was always flitting about amidst her handiwork, delighting in the bright primary colors of the toucans and the deep orange and black stripes of the tiger and the brilliant green of the snake. She herself bore all the colors of creation on her person — hair fiery red, skin rich brown, eyes sparkling green, and dress of gold and sapphire and deep purple. Yes, she was a goddess to be reckoned with.
Burble, meanwhile, well…For starters, his name was Burble. The naming of the gods is another story for another time, but Burble was stuck with his name, and he knew it lacked power and charisma. In addition, his domain was the polar caps, and he himself was clad in all white to reflect the color of his home, and try as he may, he simply couldn’t create anything that would catch the eye of a charming and colorful person like Steamstra. Hardly a thing could grow in the bitter cold and fierce winds, and what little managed to grow was scrappy and ugly and died soon after appearing. The animals were all well and good in their own way, but they were nothing to the fierce wonders of Steamstra’s forests.
At last, one day, Burble created a bear, enormous in stature and able to withstand the cruel winters. In hopes of drawing the attention of his lady-love, he made the bear an outrageous shade of purple. This, he thought with delight, is a magical creature. And he departed quickly to find Steamstra and show off his new creature.
Steamstra, always up for an adventure, was only too glad to come along with Burble and see his bear, though deep down, she truly hated the frigid cold. But along she came, and followed Burble to the entrance of the bear’s cave.
To Burble’s great dismay and aggravation, the bear turned out to be a stupid, obstinate creature, and flatly refused to exit the cave. He wanted to sit and stare at the walls of his ice cave, and had no interest in showing off for some lady who had no business there. Burble coaxed and pleaded and bribed and threatened, but the bear yawned and laid down and refused to budge.
Cursing the bear under his breath, Burble marched around in circles trying to decide what to do. He felt foolish, and he felt that if Steamstra left now, all chance of earning her affection would be gone forever. In his immense frustration, he allowed a great burst of lightning to fly out of his hand which, quite unexpectedly, caused something of a small avalanche around the ridiculous bear’s cave.
The crack of lightning, followed by the thundering avalanche, were both sudden and deafeningly loud, and the bear, in terror, bolted out of his cave. Burble’s initial delight at this unexpected side-effect quickly changed to alarm, because the shock of the avalanche caused the bear’s violently purple fur to suddenly change to bright white, as white as the very snow around him.
Before Burble could decide what to make of this astonishing change, Steamstra laughed in wonder. “Why, you’ve made a creature as white as the snow! Everywhere I look, white in every direction, and even in this magnificent creature! Where I have vibrant color everywhere, you have sparkling white! How marvelous!” And she kissed him appreciatively on the cheek.
Besides her own brightly colored self, Burble’s cheeks were the only thing in that icy landscape boasting any color.
Elisa
The challenge: Pick a feature of the natural world, and write an origin myth about it.
20 minutes
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