(an LJ Idol entry)
She lay on her back, watching the sky.
"I don't see anything, Grandpa." A hint of a whine was starting to creep into her voice. The excitement of being up past her bedtime, of being outside when she needed her warmest clothes over the pajamas she'd snuck out in, was wearing off. She was getting cold, and more sleepy than she'd admit, and restless.
"Monan will be setting soon," her grandfather said. He pointed at it but the little girl didn't look. "That will make it easier to see the begeondanheah, because it'll be darker."
"Is that the little one?" she asked.
He shook his head, before realizing that she wouldn't see that either. "No, Monan's the big moon."
"It has such a little name..." the little girl said, and her grandfather couldn't argue with that.
He thought she was old enough for the begeondanheah shower this year. Next year for certain, last year definitely not... this year, he wondered if something so slight and quick as random streaks of light in the dark sky would be enough to hold her attention and make it worth being tired for her lessons tomorrow.
"You know where the begeondanheah come from, don't you?" Maybe a little lesson now would help her stay alert.
The girl looked at him, frowing in surprise. "Come from? Why do they have to come from somewhere? They're just lights."
"Not quite," he smiled. "They're little stans."
Her frown deepened; she was not surprised but wary. Sometimes adults teased her with things that couldn't be true. "Stans? These are stans." She clutched at a handful of pebbles beneath her fingers.
"Yes, just like those, but bigger. They only look so small because they're so far away."
A big idea for a small person. She was quiet long enough that her grandfather started to wonder if she'd fallen asleep after all. But then she said, "How do they get up in the sky?"
"They don't come from down here on Middangeard," her grandfather said. "But they come from the same place as these stans do. And Middangeard itself. And Monan and Fylgan, the big moon and the little moon."
"All of them?" the girl said. She'd almost forgotten to look for the begeondanheah now. "So where do they all come from?"
"From the hwael." She knew about the hwael. It was so huge that maybe it didn't even notice Middangeard on its back as it swam through the sky. There were pictures of it in books. She liked its tail best. It looked like a fish's tail, but the hwael wasn't a fish, it was something else.
But she didn't know anything came from it. Like the begeondanheah lights in the sky, she thought it was just there. Very simple. Wasn't it?
"They come from what it eats," the old man said. "Which of course is stardust. Tiny little specks that feed such a big creature, isn't that amazing? The stardust filters in the hwael's mouth and through its body and it comes out into the cold of space -- much colder even than it is tonight. After a long, long time in the cold, it turns into stans. Big and little ones, planets and moons and pebbles . And begeondanheah, still up there in the sky."
She looked back up, reminded of why she was out here, and noticed the dark and cold again and thought about the darker, colder space where the hwael lived...
"Grandpa! I see one!" Her arm flung up and out so violently it was as if her index finger was connected to the begeondanheah itself by an invisible string and being violently jerked uptowards it.
He smiled. When she quieted down, he continued his impromptu lesson. "This is why some stans sparkle. They used to be stardust, before the hwael ate them. Some of them still remember that. The begeondanheah remember better than the rest, because they're newer. Middangeard is old, so its stans are forgetful."
"Ooh, look, there's another one! A big one!" the girl shouted, at first pointing and then bouncing and then having to stand up so she could flail her arms around and jump up and down to properly illustrate her excitement.
This one wasn't a short bright line in the sky. It was a dot at first, and then a bigger dot. And it didn't go away. She watched in open-mouthed delight.
Her grandfather hadn't had time to explain that there were stories of begeondanheah that didn't burn up in the sky, but fell to the ground. This is how it was known that they were stans. Like any other. Well, mostly like any other.
They were ground up and used in powerful medicine, but sometimes people said only ordinary stans were in that medicine, not real begeondanheah at all. They looked the same, but only the begeondanheah, from the long-lived hwael, could do magic.
It was so rare, the old man hadn't thought to warn his granddaughter about the dangers of getting too close to the begeondanheah. In his long life, they'd never been anything more than slient streaks in the sky. They were meant to encourage thoughts of deep infinity and and a calm certainty of how good it is to be alive... but now this one brought only the thought ...is that landing in my field?!
He hardly took his eyes off the fiery line in the sky, but he heard his granddaughter scramble up and rattle around through the tools for the tiny spade and rake with which she “helped” her mother in the garden, and ran as fast as she could towards the begeondanheah, to open it up and see what a hwael's meal of stardust looked like.
She lay on her back, watching the sky.
"I don't see anything, Grandpa." A hint of a whine was starting to creep into her voice. The excitement of being up past her bedtime, of being outside when she needed her warmest clothes over the pajamas she'd snuck out in, was wearing off. She was getting cold, and more sleepy than she'd admit, and restless.
"Monan will be setting soon," her grandfather said. He pointed at it but the little girl didn't look. "That will make it easier to see the begeondanheah, because it'll be darker."
"Is that the little one?" she asked.
He shook his head, before realizing that she wouldn't see that either. "No, Monan's the big moon."
"It has such a little name..." the little girl said, and her grandfather couldn't argue with that.
He thought she was old enough for the begeondanheah shower this year. Next year for certain, last year definitely not... this year, he wondered if something so slight and quick as random streaks of light in the dark sky would be enough to hold her attention and make it worth being tired for her lessons tomorrow.
"You know where the begeondanheah come from, don't you?" Maybe a little lesson now would help her stay alert.
The girl looked at him, frowing in surprise. "Come from? Why do they have to come from somewhere? They're just lights."
"Not quite," he smiled. "They're little stans."
Her frown deepened; she was not surprised but wary. Sometimes adults teased her with things that couldn't be true. "Stans? These are stans." She clutched at a handful of pebbles beneath her fingers.
"Yes, just like those, but bigger. They only look so small because they're so far away."
A big idea for a small person. She was quiet long enough that her grandfather started to wonder if she'd fallen asleep after all. But then she said, "How do they get up in the sky?"
"They don't come from down here on Middangeard," her grandfather said. "But they come from the same place as these stans do. And Middangeard itself. And Monan and Fylgan, the big moon and the little moon."
"All of them?" the girl said. She'd almost forgotten to look for the begeondanheah now. "So where do they all come from?"
"From the hwael." She knew about the hwael. It was so huge that maybe it didn't even notice Middangeard on its back as it swam through the sky. There were pictures of it in books. She liked its tail best. It looked like a fish's tail, but the hwael wasn't a fish, it was something else.
But she didn't know anything came from it. Like the begeondanheah lights in the sky, she thought it was just there. Very simple. Wasn't it?
"They come from what it eats," the old man said. "Which of course is stardust. Tiny little specks that feed such a big creature, isn't that amazing? The stardust filters in the hwael's mouth and through its body and it comes out into the cold of space -- much colder even than it is tonight. After a long, long time in the cold, it turns into stans. Big and little ones, planets and moons and pebbles . And begeondanheah, still up there in the sky."
She looked back up, reminded of why she was out here, and noticed the dark and cold again and thought about the darker, colder space where the hwael lived...
"Grandpa! I see one!" Her arm flung up and out so violently it was as if her index finger was connected to the begeondanheah itself by an invisible string and being violently jerked uptowards it.
He smiled. When she quieted down, he continued his impromptu lesson. "This is why some stans sparkle. They used to be stardust, before the hwael ate them. Some of them still remember that. The begeondanheah remember better than the rest, because they're newer. Middangeard is old, so its stans are forgetful."
"Ooh, look, there's another one! A big one!" the girl shouted, at first pointing and then bouncing and then having to stand up so she could flail her arms around and jump up and down to properly illustrate her excitement.
This one wasn't a short bright line in the sky. It was a dot at first, and then a bigger dot. And it didn't go away. She watched in open-mouthed delight.
Her grandfather hadn't had time to explain that there were stories of begeondanheah that didn't burn up in the sky, but fell to the ground. This is how it was known that they were stans. Like any other. Well, mostly like any other.
They were ground up and used in powerful medicine, but sometimes people said only ordinary stans were in that medicine, not real begeondanheah at all. They looked the same, but only the begeondanheah, from the long-lived hwael, could do magic.
It was so rare, the old man hadn't thought to warn his granddaughter about the dangers of getting too close to the begeondanheah. In his long life, they'd never been anything more than slient streaks in the sky. They were meant to encourage thoughts of deep infinity and and a calm certainty of how good it is to be alive... but now this one brought only the thought ...is that landing in my field?!
He hardly took his eyes off the fiery line in the sky, but he heard his granddaughter scramble up and rattle around through the tools for the tiny spade and rake with which she “helped” her mother in the garden, and ran as fast as she could towards the begeondanheah, to open it up and see what a hwael's meal of stardust looked like.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-04 04:12 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-04 04:15 pm (UTC)I was nearly voted out last week and I wrote this on a computer that's GOING CRAZY! (the keyboard and mouse do not obey me and cause all kinds of trouble on their own; are the machines starting to rise up against us already?) which doesn't bode well -- I can only hope I caught all the typos! -- so no wonder I'm writing unsettled stuff now :)
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-04 06:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-04 08:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-04 09:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-04 10:39 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-05 04:00 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-04 10:46 pm (UTC)week 3 recomendations part1
Date: 2011-11-05 04:53 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-05 07:11 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-05 03:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-05 10:20 pm (UTC)Great job!:) I enjoyed your entry.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-05 11:24 pm (UTC)So maybe I'm weird, but this is one of the first things I thought of: Let's have a story about rocks. And hey, planets and moons are rocks... :)
Thank you for your kind words; there's nothing better for me than writing something someone enjoys!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-06 01:15 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-06 02:41 am (UTC)I'm so glad you liked it!
(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-06 01:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-06 01:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-06 05:30 pm (UTC)Blocked with a Captcha, hope this comes through.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-06 07:32 pm (UTC)Thanks for your kind comment, especially with the trouble it took to make it :)
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-07 11:25 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-08 12:11 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-08 09:57 am (UTC)LJ Idol voting
Date: 2011-11-08 10:02 am (UTC)An LJ Idol recommendation.
Date: 2011-11-08 12:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-08 01:19 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-08 03:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-08 02:23 pm (UTC)I posted an Idol recommendation for you. (http://p-m-cryan.livejournal.com/62303.html)
Well-earned.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-08 02:25 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-08 02:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-08 06:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-08 08:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-08 09:43 pm (UTC)I had a really clear idea of what the words mean myself, which I hope contributed to it being clear enough to other people in context. But also I think Old English (as well as being nearest to my heart) is good for this: while the words are unfamiliar to most English speakers, they somehow feel close enough that they resonate a bit and help us make sense of them -- at least, when used sparingly! (Writing it "hwael" rather than "hƿæl", much as I like the weird letters, helps make it more understandable too!)
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-08 11:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-09 10:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-09 11:07 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-09 11:10 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-11-09 11:53 pm (UTC)