»And here we are now«, the black sheep who - while telling us its' story - had gone through a real and amazing transformation during a blurred period of weeks and days is finshing this story. »Finally. At the right place. At the right time.«
Right before our eyes the wooly animal has turned into a half-goat, half-human being. And still we are not able to say or desripe how. All of a sudden Mr. Tumbleweed, the faun, is standing next to us on his hairy goat's legs with its' split hooves. Long hair and beard from an almost human face and head are falling on a human chest where a pan flute is dangling at a golden chain. But there are also two big goatlike ears and two impressive curved horns. A long tail completes the image. Here it is, the beast with horns and tail that can talk.
»See, the Beaver Moon is rising!«
The faun is poiting at the dark sky.
»And here uncovered from the mud lies the ancient circle of stones, my potal, my gate that will bring me back to the Island of Greenlion, my home.«
We are all looking back and forth between the full-moon above us and the glooming circle beneath our feet.
»One year of your time has past«, the faun continues, »twelve moons have risen and shined.«
For the first time since the herd of sheep has danced free the circle I take my time to count the signs and symbols and the number of stones themselves. There are thirteen stones arranged in that circle, each engraved with a different symbol. One of the symbols in the circle of stones is now shining brighter than the others. In a pale blue it seems to reflect the moon in the sky. And somehow it reminds me of beaver teeths.
»Every stone, every symbol represents one of the full-moons your world has seen since the beginning of this year«, the faun explains. »And they are all here. Wolf Moon, Snow Moon, Worm Moon, Pink Moon, Flower Moon, Strawberry Moon, Buck Moon, Sturgeon Moon, Full Corn Moon, Hunter's Moon, Beaver Moon …«
Every time the magical being speaks out one of the moons' names one of the symbols on the stones seems to shine a little lighter, except for two of them.
»And finally, last but not least, the Cold Moon.«
This time I notice no reaction beneath my feet.
»Now, open the gate for me!
Claude Sideburns who is not a professor for archaeology but always good for an adventure steps forward.
»So, please, tell me how.«
»All you have to do is to press the stones, one after the other with both of your hands when I say the full-moons' names. Then you will see what happens.«
»But this year is not over yet, is it?« Kylie says maybe a little too quiet. »There will be one more full-moon before New Year's Day, I think.«
But the faun and Sideburns, who is not called Burnside, are not listening to her.
Mr. Tumbleweed is repeating the names of the moons and like before every time he does so one of the symbols seems to emit a special glow of blue and orange with a hint of gold. And Claude Sideburns hurries to lean onto each stone with his whole weight pressing with both hands.
He has gone on his knees, crawling through the mud of his frontyard. Only once he gets a little irritated and hesitates as there is a little pause between the Sturgeon Moon and Full Corn Moon as if the circle doesn't know which symbol it should let shine next. But when the faun calls out the name of the last moon of one year's full-moon circle,
»And finally, Cold Moon!«
Sideburns does not hesitate to press the sign next to the Beaver Moon symbol, although I am quite sure that it didn't glow at all, not even after a short pause.
Claude Sideburns stands up and takes a step back. Twelve stones have sunken deeper into the mud after he has pressed them. One stone and symbol remain higher than the other ones. The glow has gone. And nothing happens at all…
At first.
Bored of the life in the City of Gold
He'd left and let nobody know.
Gone were the towers he had known from a child,
Alone with the dream of a life
He travelled the wide open road,
The blinkered arcade,
In search of another to share in his life.
Nowhere.
Everyone looked so strange to him.
They've got no horns and they've got no tail
They don't even know of our existence.
Am I wrong to believe in a City of Gold
That lies in the deep distance, he cried
And wept as they led him away to a cage
Beast that can talk, read the sign.
The creatures they pushed and they prodded his frame
And questioned his story again.
But soon they grew bored of their prey
Beast that can talk?
More like a freak or publicity stunt.
Oh
No.
Right before our eyes the wooly animal has turned into a half-goat, half-human being. And still we are not able to say or desripe how. All of a sudden Mr. Tumbleweed, the faun, is standing next to us on his hairy goat's legs with its' split hooves. Long hair and beard from an almost human face and head are falling on a human chest where a pan flute is dangling at a golden chain. But there are also two big goatlike ears and two impressive curved horns. A long tail completes the image. Here it is, the beast with horns and tail that can talk.
»See, the Beaver Moon is rising!«
The faun is poiting at the dark sky.
»And here uncovered from the mud lies the ancient circle of stones, my potal, my gate that will bring me back to the Island of Greenlion, my home.«
We are all looking back and forth between the full-moon above us and the glooming circle beneath our feet.
»One year of your time has past«, the faun continues, »twelve moons have risen and shined.«
For the first time since the herd of sheep has danced free the circle I take my time to count the signs and symbols and the number of stones themselves. There are thirteen stones arranged in that circle, each engraved with a different symbol. One of the symbols in the circle of stones is now shining brighter than the others. In a pale blue it seems to reflect the moon in the sky. And somehow it reminds me of beaver teeths.
»Every stone, every symbol represents one of the full-moons your world has seen since the beginning of this year«, the faun explains. »And they are all here. Wolf Moon, Snow Moon, Worm Moon, Pink Moon, Flower Moon, Strawberry Moon, Buck Moon, Sturgeon Moon, Full Corn Moon, Hunter's Moon, Beaver Moon …«
Every time the magical being speaks out one of the moons' names one of the symbols on the stones seems to shine a little lighter, except for two of them.
»And finally, last but not least, the Cold Moon.«
This time I notice no reaction beneath my feet.
»Now, open the gate for me!
Claude Sideburns who is not a professor for archaeology but always good for an adventure steps forward.
»So, please, tell me how.«
»All you have to do is to press the stones, one after the other with both of your hands when I say the full-moons' names. Then you will see what happens.«
»But this year is not over yet, is it?« Kylie says maybe a little too quiet. »There will be one more full-moon before New Year's Day, I think.«
But the faun and Sideburns, who is not called Burnside, are not listening to her.
Mr. Tumbleweed is repeating the names of the moons and like before every time he does so one of the symbols seems to emit a special glow of blue and orange with a hint of gold. And Claude Sideburns hurries to lean onto each stone with his whole weight pressing with both hands.
He has gone on his knees, crawling through the mud of his frontyard. Only once he gets a little irritated and hesitates as there is a little pause between the Sturgeon Moon and Full Corn Moon as if the circle doesn't know which symbol it should let shine next. But when the faun calls out the name of the last moon of one year's full-moon circle,
»And finally, Cold Moon!«
Sideburns does not hesitate to press the sign next to the Beaver Moon symbol, although I am quite sure that it didn't glow at all, not even after a short pause.
Claude Sideburns stands up and takes a step back. Twelve stones have sunken deeper into the mud after he has pressed them. One stone and symbol remain higher than the other ones. The glow has gone. And nothing happens at all…
At first.
Bored of the life in the City of Gold
He'd left and let nobody know.
Gone were the towers he had known from a child,
Alone with the dream of a life
He travelled the wide open road,
The blinkered arcade,
In search of another to share in his life.
Nowhere.
Everyone looked so strange to him.
They've got no horns and they've got no tail
They don't even know of our existence.
Am I wrong to believe in a City of Gold
That lies in the deep distance, he cried
And wept as they led him away to a cage
Beast that can talk, read the sign.
The creatures they pushed and they prodded his frame
And questioned his story again.
But soon they grew bored of their prey
Beast that can talk?
More like a freak or publicity stunt.
Oh
No.
They've got no horns and they've got no tail
They don't even know of our existence.
Am I wrong to believe in a City of Gold
That lies in the deep distance, he cried
And broke down the door of the cage and marched on out.
He grabbed a creature by the scruff of his neck, pointing out:
There, beyond the bounds of you weak imagination
Lie the noble towers of my city, bright and gold.
Let me take you there, show you a living story
Let me show you others such as me
Why did I ever leave?
They've got no horns and they've got no tail
They don't even know of our existence
Am I wrong to believe in a City of Gold
That lies in the deep distance, he cried
And wept.
And so we set out with the beast and his horns
And his crazy description of home.
After many days journey we came to a peak
Where the beast gazed abroad and cried out.
They don't even know of our existence.
Am I wrong to believe in a City of Gold
That lies in the deep distance, he cried
And broke down the door of the cage and marched on out.
He grabbed a creature by the scruff of his neck, pointing out:
There, beyond the bounds of you weak imagination
Lie the noble towers of my city, bright and gold.
Let me take you there, show you a living story
Let me show you others such as me
Why did I ever leave?
They've got no horns and they've got no tail
They don't even know of our existence
Am I wrong to believe in a City of Gold
That lies in the deep distance, he cried
And wept.
And so we set out with the beast and his horns
And his crazy description of home.
After many days journey we came to a peak
Where the beast gazed abroad and cried out.
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Today is Monday, the 27th of November 2023.
Beaver Moon
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