Wintry Wisdom

Frequently Flying across confident the flyer gazed across the landscape pecked as it was on the biggest branch of Flower Valley’s Life Tree, next to the deep light blue crystal sonorizing any access of the oaken chest storing diamonds accumulated by Esh the legendary miner and gem cutter established mostly around the caverns and tunnels nesting further down than even the towering tree’s roots.

Across the horizon from the northwest a sudden blinking light, a disc smooth as molten metal running across the sky suddenly stopping at the savanna heights.

With eyes wide as the round doors of the underground dwelling of Azu, Vin, Kin and Kam without astonishment or awe but awakened curiosity the giant grey leans forth, extends wings with a drawn out wooosh, brushing and fanning in hundredfold aside to swoop up and away, ascending almost vertically as first and then embracing the warm air incoming to glide casting a shadow covering the narrow pass from the barren granite cliff to the sheep grazed oaky cone-shaped hill marking the natural border between valley inhabited and beyond.

Increasing speed the usually nocturnal feathered fellow flies forward, focused on the flickering from ahead. Closing in, a funny figure climbs the rocks planting foreign fruits. Compelled to land they meet, one seven times as tall as the other.

The stranger sings, no words but the meaning is of pure joy, yet so profound it seems to make the fruits grow, and that they do; in seconds only stalks swirl soaring, stretching sinewy strands, exploding in further fruit.

With orange hair, a green cape, shirt and trousers, blue eyes and a silver necklace with jade heart the anonymous speaks “Fruits. Forget to remember”, takes a bit of purple white pulp in its mouth and is gone.

Qal blinks, relaxes his shoulders. Images, yet blurry in his mind, appears of seven persons. Certainty is of their need — as he flies back to Flower Valley, it is time to assist the newcomers.