talk the walk

it occurs to me that i could step out of the forest into the glimmering glade and talk my walk with you all for part of the way to wherever we’re going for as long as we’re on the same track. our bare feet would step with care on a path well-scrutinised in advance for thorns and fewmets, side-stepping tiny young plants and bright green beetles, gentle on the bright green moss.our eyes would see the trees and birds and we’d tell them their scientific names. we would see the hidden life among the leaves, the tiny forests within the leaf mold under our feet, and the fairies and sylphs of the wayside.

green fairy
slightly self-radiant aerial being

small mammals and reptiles would flee at our approach.  kangaroos would greet us affectionately and pose for photos. perhaps we would meet other wayfarers, and wander at will with them all. i would carry a good well-educated wand and some amulets, two flutes and a lute, and a full purse of gold, and there’d be silver and some coppers in my pocket. we’d sometimes find pavement beneath our feet, or cool mosaics, or wooden flooring, and there’d be bothies and inns and haunted mead benches where we could hobnob with the worldlings and exchange wisdom and words of goodwill. we’d view vistas, learn lore, mend mad magic, meet our maker the miraculous Mind, our mother the mud our father the sky, and create stuff… dream-worlds, game-worlds, fairy-lands and elf-realms, and visit the ones that already exist. well, i’ve stalled long enough. time i began.

11 thoughts on “talk the walk

  1. Aye – indeed – and not only would we tell the plants their scientific names, we’d pause long enough to hear at least part of the names they give themselves – longer for trees who grow long names with the circles of the sun…

  2. Can’t actually imagine why, were I a non-human organism of any ilk, I’d want to know how bipeds referred to me. I’d rather that they shut up and watched their step. Besides, would I have the space in my memory banks to decode and store the pronunciations of my name in 5,000+ human languages (excluding dialects)?

    1. xex, dear, they is only small theirselvers and dunt undastand only excep their own langwij. which is usually divergent a century or so from ours. but after his death my much-diminished-in-stature uncle syd knew he was not a pixy or elf. he is what is referred to as a ‘little man’, as when edna everidge, if i may invoke that august personage, might say, ‘my valence has come unhooked from my upper upholstery and sags horribly but it’s all right, aunty jeanine has put me onto a delightful ‘little man’ who does wonders with sagging friwws and is quite something on tawdry old lounges. uncle syd did wonders for laboratory instruments. prolly got himself a nice workshop down in dingly deww. weww worth a visit if the tequila gets uplifting enough for you. 🙂

      1. Wyvo, my melliferous squeeze, we agree on one point: Dame Edna (who once made Sean Connery nearly lose bladder control) is always right. My workshop, however, is upward-bound, well-aerated, and pedestrian, like moi. [Your readers may inspect said premises here {} even if you yourself cannot.] Fer them reezuns, I no longer need to risk drinking tequila over an open flame.

        You may now be seated, Wyvo-deer.

  3. I have been reduced to reposting a comment that your WordPress syndicate admits was already posted, but is not shown.

    I’ve decided to do that by rearranging the sentences in an order undetectable to the non-elfin. You, of course, free to rehabilitate whichever posting is more in keeping with local bylaws and mores.

    Ww agree on one point, Wyveau, my squeeze melliferous: Dayme Edna (did Barry not make Sean nearly lose cystic control?) is toujours right. My atelier, however, like moi, is upward bound, well aerated, and pedestrian. [Said premises are depicted here {} and may not be accessible by tin-and-twine.]

    Fur them rayzones,

    I need no longer risk

    drinking tequila

    over an open flame.

    You may now lean backwards and be reseated, Wyvo deeer.

  4. (Why the devil would you accept Dragonwyst comments here? She’s a drive-by commenter. Her circuit will not bring her this way again before equatorial autumn, if then. She doesn’t do actual communication, not the way you and I do it, Why-Veau. And we have good reason to suspect she’s working for the Mayans, slipping sponges soaked in Pleistocene bacteria into abdominal cavities when she thinks no one is looking.)

    1. the deewee’s illustrious comments, like those eke of the charming thou, exhexiter, are moonbeams of bright beauty upon my miserable lowly life. and if she hath indeed pleisticenionian allegiances of a murky nature, should we discriminate? and besides if people cleaned their belly-buttons out carefully with gelatinous bellicoce ontment they wouldn’t HAVE abdominal cavities. didn’t you read Dame Edna’s Edna’s Limp Edition?
      btw, we all miss you terribly on fb. couldn’t you come back?

      1. Come back? To RostroLibro??? I’m sure “all” 3 or 4 of you would acknowledge that life is toooo short for that, especially once your melatonin levels start going flop-bot on ya. Time, as we think we know it, doesn’t exist, and it goes by so fast.

        Which was kind wy I was hoping you’d offer to channel me to them. No sacrifices or any of that. But curtains drawn with lots of spooky music and dry ice — that wouldn’t hurt. No more than four or five seances a week.

        (We’ll figure out how to monetize it later, after — if I read you right — it catches on like wildfire. There’s an ultrafast, worldwide, 24/7, unlimited Internet connection in this for you, Wyh, not that I have any illusions about your openly succumbing to such blandishments. Fact is, I uz thinkin of turnin the whole Brandin thing over a you, since by now yore surely uppa 4,000 or 5,000 friends. [That’s a LOT of place settins for the solstices, innit?] I ask only that the logo include a wallaby and a platypus and a deadly poisonous spider. You may decide how they combine and whether they have offsprin or not.)

        Eagerly awaitin word, when you come to,


  5. Hey there again.

    (So what in blazes does ~any~ of this have to do with the matter/s/ at hand [especially “self-radiant aerial beings” {and how could you have let these comments get so far out of hand?}?]



  6. Jaysoose, it just occurred to me: D. Wyst cain’t ~see~ these comments … cain she? Surely you ~do~ screen what she sees, for her own good. Right?

    If not, you’ll need to set things up so that her log-in attempts are redirected elsewhere.

    As a token of bona fides, I’ve attached the perfect web site URL to which you may redirect her. I am what I am today because of that site (and, of course, its content). Dwysters’ll soon lose interest and this whole thing will blow over.

  7. And so what if I am working for the Mayans..No one said I Mayan’t. I see the indomitable X has come whooshing by displaying his IeAJJDRn_H0 in the midst of an upholstery discussion. How unseemly! …and casting aspersions on my drive-by postings! S’if I need things thrown all over my carefully contemplated verbiage!
    i’d be careful, if I wuz U, Y as X appears to be driving a wedge between thee and my W
    yours always

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