hi torilol, like your writing schedule I liked the horse poem . and I am a fan of owls . generations is interesting ,working with time . i did a little something called bear the long lived goddess.
Legend tells of the goddess Beara whose mother had turned her into a nut, an acorn.
Her mother fell out with Beara for not helping and, having turned her into a nut, hurled Beara way out, where she landed on a long pointed strip of... mehr anzeigen
hi torilol, like your writing schedule I liked the horse poem . and I am a fan of owls . generations is interesting ,working with time . i did a little something called bear the long lived goddess.
Legend tells of the goddess Beara whose mother had turned her into a nut, an acorn.
Her mother fell out with Beara for not helping and, having turned her into a nut, hurled Beara way out, where she landed on a long pointed strip of land in the west of Ireland.
Well Beara did not want to remain an ugly nut, so she began to grow into a great beauty, a tree, and she formed the rivers and mountains, and the healthy hills.
There on the bank shore, Beara stood as an oak. She wanted to marry and have children.
A fairy told her she was to have seven periods of youth and seven husbands.
She was to have mixed luck with her husbands.
As she grew, tales of her great beauty spread and her first husband appeared.
Her husband for the first fifty years was the Deer, whom she loved for his velvety coat and elegant eyes. He nibbled her leaves but did not eat her children because she was too young to have any yet.
In her second fifty years, the Squirrel was her consort; he was lively and quick and cuddly. He ate her children but hid many underground where they sprouted.
In her third fifty years, the Jay was her husband. A handsome fellow with colourful clothes, noisy and quarrelsome. He too ate her children but hid many that sprouted, and dropped many far from her branches; these too sprouted forth.
In her fourth fifty years, the Woodpecker gathered her nuts. He was violent, smart, and business like. He too dropped some acorns far from the tree and they sprouted.
In her fifth fifty years the Wild Pig was her husband. He roamed beneath her leaves and ploughed the ground. He was ravenous and noisy, but family orientated. He ate many of her children but trod others into the forest floor, and there they germinated.
In her sixth fifty years the Wild Horse was her husband. He nibbled her lower branches, ate her children, but he too trod the acorns into the mud where they germinated. He was willful, rubbed his back against her, and was choosy.
In her seventh fifty years the Wood Mouse was her husband. He crept out at night. He was secretive, gentle, tickled, and took little from her. He gnawed the acorns. He hid some in little caverns in the ground. Then later, he forgot, and these germinated.
She was by now 350 years old with many foster children, creatures that lived her branches.
But as to actual children, she had too many to count; all around her grew tree after tree, planted by the Deer, the Squirrel, the Jay the Woodpecker ,the Wild Pig, the Wild Horse, and the Wood Mouse.
After each fifty years her husbands died and fertilized the soil, and helped her and her children to grow.
But she was to have one last husband, Man. He was the worst.
When he was young he ate her children, then as he got older he ate her body, then killed her children, and cleared the forest.
But he is learning – he is eating less now and planting her children.
And Beara said as her last and eighth husband died,
“Hard is my fate to be an oak, and live so long; but I am 400 years old and now shall die myself.
But each day I have had 100 foster children in my branches, and I have had thousands of children and grandchildren; they grew all around me, tree after tree, planted by the Deer, the Squirrel, the Woodpecker, the Wild Pig, the Wild Horse, and the Wood Mouse.”
And the oak sang her last song;
“Farewell to the good soil and the sun and the rain,
farewell to my husbands,
that made me again.
Farewell to my children, fostered or no.
Farewell to you all,
May you flourish and grow.”
notes: this story is based on an ancient Irish legend of Beara, the long lived goddess.
the oak: has a life of between 400 to 800 years. Oaks provide a habitat for many creatures, birds, insects, fungi, lichens. They also feed many other creatures, such as those mentioned in the story.
On a typical oak, acorn production varies from year to year but can be as many as two thousand per year on a mature tree.
kind regards
wildgoose
;)
no i dont know why, why?
the answer is on the second time i commented, the 1 for your age n what-not, around there is ur answer :) :)