The moment passes. Elayin knows that it is time to get dressed and to go fetch water at the river for breakfast as well as for the morning's ablutions. As ever, before attaching the knife Saskia gave her so long ago to her belt, she pauses to reflect over the drawn blade.
"What are you doing? Where are you now? Do you still have this knife's twin sister? Does dawn glitter in your blade's garnet as brightly as it does in mine?"
The flight of thoughts like swallows, swoop, scatter, and vanish like the reflection of her eyes as she sheathes the blade.
The air outside is just cool enough to chill Elayin's cheeks, and so she hastens to warm up. Along the way she looks at the trees, the wild grass, the leaves, and flowers that have all been filigreed with silvery frozen dew that is quickly changing to vanishing bronze as the dawn gathers momentum. It's as if the forest's nightly dreaming experienced evanescence every morning.
The river, which is sheltered by the trees, is still shrouded in twilight... a moment bridging two worlds.
Elayin drops the water bag to drink from the tranquility that surrounds her and to feast on the beauty of the mirror black water that contrasts with the leafy tree tops that are quickly beginning to reflect the morning's fiery red light. Movement draws her gaze: a gray kingfisher, perched on a middle branch of a nearby tree is scanning the waters below with short nervy movements of its head. It vanishes from her sight as it takes flight and reappears seconds later. It has just flown up past the line of shadows and has burst into iridescent colors: it's throat is awash in crimson and copper that seems to color the air through which it flies. A moment's weightlessness as the climbing flame reaches its apex and changes into a bright shooting star, an azure arrow streaking towards the black mirror of the water's surface. Splash, the sapphire streak strikes the water!
Picture by Jiri Bohdal
Time holds its breath and the victorious kingfisher's beak emerges from the waters with a squirming silver fish in its beak. With a beat of its wings, it tears itself from the waters that seem to explode upwards around it as a giant emerald pike fish blasts upwards out of the darkness of the deeper waters. Drops of water sparkle in the air. The snap of the aquatic carnivores teeth, the sound of a giant fish regaining its world.
Elayin sighs, reminds herself to fill the waterbag and makes her way home.
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Le soleil perce l’horizon et, comme à l’accoutumée, le sommeil de la personne blottie sous la couette. Elayin fête ce réveil en faisant mine de dormir encore… histoire savourer un peu plus longtemps la douce tiédeur du lit… histoire de se donner le temps de revenir entièrement du monde des rêves et d’en garder le maximum.
Le moment passe et Elayin sait qu’il est temps de s’habiller afin d’aller à la rivière chercher l’eau pour le petit déjeuner et les ablutions matinales… comme tous les matins
en ceignant le couteau que Saskia lui avait donné jadis, un moment de réflexion.
« Que fais-tu ? Où es-tu ? Tu as gardé le jumeau de cette lame… L’aube brûle-t-elle dans le grenat de ton pommeau comme dans le mien ? »
Une volée de pensées comme des hirondelles, s’éparpillent et s’évanouissent comme le reflet de ses yeux lorsqu’elle rengaine la lame.
Dehors, air est juste assez frais pour piquer la peau du visage d’Elayin qui s’active pour se réchauffer. En chemin, son regard observe les arbres, l’herbe, les feuilles et fleurs qui sont touts argentés de rosée qui tourne au cuivre avec l’aube avant de s’évaporer. C’est comme si l’esprit de la forêt vivait, chaque matin, un automne chimérique, l’été de la chimère étant la nuit.
La rivière, abritée par les arbres, demeure pour un moment encore, au crépuscule… à l’automne de la chimère… un moment à la frontière de plusieurs mondes.
Elayin pose un instant le sac à eau encore vide afin de se repaître de la tranquillité et de la beauté des eaux noires qui contrastent avec les hauts des arbres qui s’empourprent avec les rayons du matin. Un mouvement attire son regarde : un martin pécheur gris, perché dans un arbre à mi-hauteur, scrute les eaux noires en bougeant la tête de droite à gauche. En un éclair, il disparaît de sa vue en prenant son envol. Subitement il réapparaît en pleine accession en traversant la ligne d’ombre et semble incandescent : les couleurs de feu de son ventre déteignant même sur l’air qu’il traverse. Un instant de suspension, la flamme à son paroxysme s’évanouit pour devenir une brillante étoile filante, un trait azur filant vers le miroir noir de l’eau et la frappant violemment avec une gerbe d’eau.
Le temps retient son haleine et le Martin-pécheur émerge de l’eau victorieux, un alevin au bec. D’un battement, il s’arrache à l’étreinte glacée de l’eau- qui semble exploser autour de lui tandis qu’un énorme brochet tigré d’émeraude surgit des ombres. Les gouttes d’eau étincellent dans l’air. Le claquement de la mâchoire du carnassier aquatique, le bruit d’un poisson géant réintégrant son monde.
Elayin soupire, se rappelle de se remplir le sac à eau et s’en retourne à la maison.
Stunning descriptions! Loved it!
ReplyDeleteI was caught up in each moment as they flowed one after another. And Niki is right : your descriptions are vivid and lush. Great job. Roland
ReplyDeleteToday in two language, how fun is that.;)
ReplyDeleteI love how you mix the serious with the mundane.;) Your writing is deliciously unpredictable.;)
xoxo
What a pleasure to enter this beautiful world you created.
ReplyDeleteTwo languages, wow! Alesa, I'm seriously impressed. I could never dream of being good enough at any other language to write in it! Just how many languages DO you know?
ReplyDeleteThis had some lovely descriptions, I really enjoyed them. I loved how the knife seemed to be almost alive to Elayin, too.
Love this! Very atmospheric.
ReplyDeleteAviro Niki! Oh yeah, I guess there are a lot of descriptions... Glad you liked it, the person I wrote it for didn't . : j
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Buokaye Roland. Thanks for the kind words.
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Sawubona Zuzana. Not the first time I put a bilingual post here. : j At first I thought I would have a french mirror of this blog or the other way around... Stuck to it for all of three posts and realized there weren't any french readers so I dropped the french version. I still put up french when I translate to English from french.
I think the mundane is serious. "Important decisions must be made swiftly (but not hastily) whereas trivial decisions such as which bottle to open next must be pondered at length" Famous Japanese zen saying attributed Takuan Soho.
I do my best to entertain. Thanks. : j
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Djin dobry Kass! Wow, nice to see you here! In all the ways that matter, I didn't really create anything here. I just described something that could very well have existed in our world. : j But I'm glad you enjoy looking through the frame of my prose. Thanks Kass.
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Geia Sangu! LoL, two languages isn't a big deal. There countries full of people for whom that (at least) is the norm. : j If you take all the fragments of languages in which I barely know how to ask for food in a restaurant... I 'd say I know about seven-eighths of one language; but don't tell my employers though, they think I'm fully bilingual. ; j
I'm glad you liked this, I dug it out my archives and translated it especially for you in response to you comments on yesterday's post. : j
Aww, yay! In that case, thank you for this! And I did enjoy it very much, I always look forward to your posts! :)
ReplyDeleteAm ridiculously tired, so I'm going to save reading and commenting on your latest post for tomorrow, so that I don't have to read it with half-closed eyes.
(On an unrelated note, I think we may have found our house!)
Awesome! Congrats Sangu! And to Steve who probably doesn't read this. I'm delighted for the both of you. :}
ReplyDeleteLovely. You created a beautiful atmosphere in light and colors. J’ai des images dans les yeux – des images de cet oiseau, ce matin pécheur gris qui sort de l’eau glauque. But the knife that Saskia gave her scares me.
ReplyDeleteSalut Vagabonde! Glad you enjoyed it.
ReplyDeleteWhy are you worried about the knife? Incidentally, did you know that knife is one of the etymological roots for the name Saskia (through old germanic sachsa)?