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Mar. 28th, 2016
Myth - Why leaves change color?
Mar. 28th, 2016 08:44 pm2. Why leaves change color?
Title: A Tale not Told
Mythology
Author: charisstoma
Word count: 302
Long ago, it is said, trees used to walk the earth. No one knew why, just that they did. Sometimes they still do.
Acer could have told them but he was held to the oath all trees take as saplings; never to reveal that they can walk, or talk for that matter at least not in human speech. Still he remembers what it was like to dance in the moonlight; to do more than dance, to fuck in the moonlight. That knowledge comes down through the generations, born into each and every tree.
So he remembers the time when a human caught two maples cavorting drunkenly from having imbibed the other’s sweet sap, of how the human joined in and sipped from the hollow knotholes that the drunken ones had used and used those same knotholes for his own rutting.
He remembered, as did those trees and the human did too, making up some tale of spirits beings in the trees. A tale changed through the years of a god pursuing a nymph until she turned herself into a tree to escape him.
Acer could tell that to this day all maple trees remember and their leaves blush crimson, knowing that the humans have a way to record images now and admire the effects of their shame until the trees in desperation drop those same leaves to stand naked and stark but less noticeable in the landscape.
All the trees do this to some degree, for the shame is there for all … except the conifers who have no shame to speak of.
Acer could tell but he doesn’t but he and his kin speak, just not in human word, when the wind rushes through their limbs and sometimes when there are none to notice they still dance in that same wind.
Title: A Tale not Told
Mythology
Author: charisstoma
Word count: 302
Long ago, it is said, trees used to walk the earth. No one knew why, just that they did. Sometimes they still do.
Acer could have told them but he was held to the oath all trees take as saplings; never to reveal that they can walk, or talk for that matter at least not in human speech. Still he remembers what it was like to dance in the moonlight; to do more than dance, to fuck in the moonlight. That knowledge comes down through the generations, born into each and every tree.
So he remembers the time when a human caught two maples cavorting drunkenly from having imbibed the other’s sweet sap, of how the human joined in and sipped from the hollow knotholes that the drunken ones had used and used those same knotholes for his own rutting.
He remembered, as did those trees and the human did too, making up some tale of spirits beings in the trees. A tale changed through the years of a god pursuing a nymph until she turned herself into a tree to escape him.
Acer could tell that to this day all maple trees remember and their leaves blush crimson, knowing that the humans have a way to record images now and admire the effects of their shame until the trees in desperation drop those same leaves to stand naked and stark but less noticeable in the landscape.
All the trees do this to some degree, for the shame is there for all … except the conifers who have no shame to speak of.
Acer could tell but he doesn’t but he and his kin speak, just not in human word, when the wind rushes through their limbs and sometimes when there are none to notice they still dance in that same wind.
3. Myth - Why is the Sky Blue
Mar. 28th, 2016 09:34 pmMyth - Why is the Sky Blue
Title: The Blue of the Sky
Mythology
Author: charisstoma
Word count: 283
The first man lay back in the grass gazing up at the sky, his body still heated with the activities he’d shared with his lover. It would have been nice if that lover had stayed instead of once having sated his lust jumping up to disappear. He never knew where his lover went; his lover was there and then he wasn’t, just like when they’d first met. It puzzled him but he could never stay awake after their coupling and when he woke there was just the sky gazing back down at him calm and a light clear blue.
“You could tell me where he goes after he leaves me,” the man accused the sky. “But you don’t, any more than the trees who whisper to each other in the wind. You hold his secrets in your cold heart, not even shouting it to me when you spray your seed upon the earth.”
The sky smiled as he held up the sun and thought of telling the man what his lover was but then again he was the sky; and the air, the rain, the hail, the snow were him; making him a fearsome being. But there was one more fearsome than he and this was the man’s lover.
And so the sky, it is said, withheld his knowledge and from the countless times of watching the plowing of the man by his lover, turned blue with restrained lust in the process. This continues to this day, but with different men, and when the sky can no longer contain his lust he lashes down his seed upon the land making it uncomfortable and sometimes dangerous for some and, usually, beneficial for the plants.
Title: The Blue of the Sky
Mythology
Author: charisstoma
Word count: 283
The first man lay back in the grass gazing up at the sky, his body still heated with the activities he’d shared with his lover. It would have been nice if that lover had stayed instead of once having sated his lust jumping up to disappear. He never knew where his lover went; his lover was there and then he wasn’t, just like when they’d first met. It puzzled him but he could never stay awake after their coupling and when he woke there was just the sky gazing back down at him calm and a light clear blue.
“You could tell me where he goes after he leaves me,” the man accused the sky. “But you don’t, any more than the trees who whisper to each other in the wind. You hold his secrets in your cold heart, not even shouting it to me when you spray your seed upon the earth.”
The sky smiled as he held up the sun and thought of telling the man what his lover was but then again he was the sky; and the air, the rain, the hail, the snow were him; making him a fearsome being. But there was one more fearsome than he and this was the man’s lover.
And so the sky, it is said, withheld his knowledge and from the countless times of watching the plowing of the man by his lover, turned blue with restrained lust in the process. This continues to this day, but with different men, and when the sky can no longer contain his lust he lashes down his seed upon the land making it uncomfortable and sometimes dangerous for some and, usually, beneficial for the plants.