I saw a drawing of an Elvin woman lying in the grass with anearly morning mist about and holding a flute while watching fireflies dance. She wore a crown of flowers upon her head. This is what came to mind. Please drop down to the start to read it. It seems it fell short on the number of characters required to publish it so I'm adding all this to get the count up. Sorry, I won't change my story. Will try this to see if it is enough now.
WC:527
Call of the Sun
by MF Burbaugh
I love sitting here on the small hill overlooking the bay this early in the morning. The sun has not yet made its presence felt upon us, to forever change the scene before me today. The soft, billowy blanket of white fog sits so still upon the water. There is an additional mist that rests snuggled up to, and hugging the blanket, further making the whole area so still, so utterly quiet and peaceful. Not even the birds seem to be awake to disturb the serenity.
My wife, Araiel Falaron (Sun Maiden), a local Elvin beauty in her own right, lays in the grass, piccolo in hand, watching the last of the firefly's dance in the early mist before they sleep. She is waiting for the magic moment when she will play the 'Call of the Sun' for her tribe.
The sky is to the point of rendering itself the color blue, a few wisps of cloud high above, with no patterns or rhymes to distract your focal point upon the bay. No wind, not the slightest of breezes would dare tear apart this beauty which makes you sigh with contentment and joy to even have been alive to see, smell, and feel it, in all its splendor.
Somewhere out on the bay the quiet is broken by a fish jumping, but rather than disturbing the peace it adds to the charm.
Finally, my wife starts her tune, slowly at first, long, easy, and low, to gently wake the sleeping giant with the soft calls of her notes. Then as she sees that the sun has awakened, she starts her call to it, thanking it for another day.
As it rises, she stands and dances, and plays a loud opening crescendo, as all of nature joins in with her as she dances the dance of birth, and follows natures lead as they bring all the instruments of the universe to bear on one poor little, helpless planet. The melodious folds, the interweaving of instruments, the crashes of thunder and rolling of winds, and my Araiel plays and dances her beautiful heart out. Finally it tapers, one grand finale, 15 minutes to the second, she stops and falls, and lays helpless on the grass. Somewhere a father in heaven smiles, and the giant sun leaps into the heavens.
In the years I have been here I have seen hundreds of sunrises and sunsets. I spent days with paint and canvas trying to capture its beauty before realizing it has such subtleties that can be seen and enjoyed, but never captured on any other medium but the canvas of the mind, to be indelibly etched forever more...
My wife smiles up at me, her job is done, I take her hand and we slowly walk back into the woods. It would be a beautiful day. At its end, she will return and play the 'Call of the Stars', to once again put the gentle giant to sleep.
WC:527
Call of the Sun
by MF Burbaugh
I love sitting here on the small hill overlooking the bay this early in the morning. The sun has not yet made its presence felt upon us, to forever change the scene before me today. The soft, billowy blanket of white fog sits so still upon the water. There is an additional mist that rests snuggled up to, and hugging the blanket, further making the whole area so still, so utterly quiet and peaceful. Not even the birds seem to be awake to disturb the serenity.
My wife, Araiel Falaron (Sun Maiden), a local Elvin beauty in her own right, lays in the grass, piccolo in hand, watching the last of the firefly's dance in the early mist before they sleep. She is waiting for the magic moment when she will play the 'Call of the Sun' for her tribe.
The sky is to the point of rendering itself the color blue, a few wisps of cloud high above, with no patterns or rhymes to distract your focal point upon the bay. No wind, not the slightest of breezes would dare tear apart this beauty which makes you sigh with contentment and joy to even have been alive to see, smell, and feel it, in all its splendor.
Somewhere out on the bay the quiet is broken by a fish jumping, but rather than disturbing the peace it adds to the charm.
Finally, my wife starts her tune, slowly at first, long, easy, and low, to gently wake the sleeping giant with the soft calls of her notes. Then as she sees that the sun has awakened, she starts her call to it, thanking it for another day.
As it rises, she stands and dances, and plays a loud opening crescendo, as all of nature joins in with her as she dances the dance of birth, and follows natures lead as they bring all the instruments of the universe to bear on one poor little, helpless planet. The melodious folds, the interweaving of instruments, the crashes of thunder and rolling of winds, and my Araiel plays and dances her beautiful heart out. Finally it tapers, one grand finale, 15 minutes to the second, she stops and falls, and lays helpless on the grass. Somewhere a father in heaven smiles, and the giant sun leaps into the heavens.
In the years I have been here I have seen hundreds of sunrises and sunsets. I spent days with paint and canvas trying to capture its beauty before realizing it has such subtleties that can be seen and enjoyed, but never captured on any other medium but the canvas of the mind, to be indelibly etched forever more...
My wife smiles up at me, her job is done, I take her hand and we slowly walk back into the woods. It would be a beautiful day. At its end, she will return and play the 'Call of the Stars', to once again put the gentle giant to sleep.
