The Moon in All its Glory
I didn't see it, that huge Super Moon that last visited our skies in 1948. It was obscured from view by Scottish clouds and drizzle. But as it drew closer I was re-writing, tweaking and tailoring an Old Siberian folk tale about a Reindeer maiden and the Moon.
At the surface it is a delightful tale from the Arctic circle about how the moon came to be. Underneath this it is an unusual tale of female strength and the weakness and changeable nature of conditional love. And if you listen a little deeper still, there are also the quiet, grounded qualities of unconditional love.
I have only just begun sketching ideas for the illustrations and they may well change but here is a little peek into a Wintery Fantasy from The Far North...
Once
he was a pale faced Prince who sailed the skies as a lost soul. Astral winds
swirled in his hair as he roamed amongst the Stars, drifting wherever and
whenever he pleased. For all his freedom his heart was lonely and in time he
began to look for a companion with whom he could share the skies.
The Moon flew a little closer – he had heard this music before. Such a
beautiful sound – as vast as the sky and as enchanting as starlight. The prince
bowed low to the trees to listen closer still. With a joy in his heart he
forgot himself and his loneliness in her song.
So mesmerized was he that he unwittingly sank Earthwards with a love laden
smile and when the music stopped he awoke to find himself knee-deep in snow.
As the Moon grew closer Lusa began to feel uneasy – as any creature does when
it feels the hunt coming. But Life gifts both the Hunted and the
Hunter...
Lusa and Taiga, for that was the name of the man with a Reindeer’s soul, bent
their heads together. Their breath caressed each others faces before becoming
glittering rainbow coloured ice-dust in the air.
So Lusa ran to the Yaranga and closed the
flap. Once inside, Taiga transformed Lusa into a small oil lamp and returned
himself to the form of a reindeer.
“I’m here, can’t you see me?” she teased.
At the surface it is a delightful tale from the Arctic circle about how the moon came to be. Underneath this it is an unusual tale of female strength and the weakness and changeable nature of conditional love. And if you listen a little deeper still, there are also the quiet, grounded qualities of unconditional love.
I have only just begun sketching ideas for the illustrations and they may well change but here is a little peek into a Wintery Fantasy from The Far North...
Lusa, The Reindeer
And The Moon.
The Moon was
not always as it is today.
On Earth, in
the Northern Lands, lands that the Sun leaves dark for long cold Winters, the Moon spied an Old Shepherd and his
Daughter.
Just as the
pale Prince rode the skies, Lusa, her Father and their people roamed the white plains
and glistening Forests of the Arctic carrying their homes with them wherever
they went. The Shepherds of the clan roamed even further still. In Summer they
would travel North with the reindeer to calve and feed on the lush growth and
in Winter they would travel South to find shelter from harsh weather and forage
for food under soft snow.
The time
came when the already old shepherd grew even older and could not make the long
journey away from the clan. So on one cold Winter's night – though Winter itself
was a long night lasting many months – Lusa set off on the long journey South
alone.
Lusa and the herd travelled slowly – walking by torchlight and resting by
fireside. Time passed unmarked by dusk or dawn and Lusa sang contentedly as she
played her gentle drum.
Scrambling
to his feet he promised himself that this was the woman he would make his
own. He would take her back to the sky to sail the sea of stars in his
beautiful boat and he would never be lonely again.
His lovelorn
hunt began. Through the snow-laden forests Lusa’s starlit voice and gentle song
guided him to her.
Lusa beat three
strong beats on her drum. Boom Boom Boom.
The resonant
sound shook the snow from the trees and the Reindeer stood silent.
Out from the
herd the largest reindeer stepped. In three large elegant strides he changed
his skin for man flesh.
“The Moon is
coming for you” whispered Taiga.
“ I do not
want to live in the sky with a pale faced prince. I am content here with you” breathed Lusa.
“Then we
must hide you.” said the gentle voice of the man with reindeer feet.
The moon grew closer still. His light began to shine like a cold sun casting
long shadows across the Snow.
Quickly
Taiga turned Lusa into a snowdrift and then turned himself back into a reindeer
and began snuffling for lichen and moss.
The Moon
approached the herd. He stood tall and thin, his round face hungry and
expectant.
“Where is
your shepherdess?” he crooned.
But the herd ignored him and just kept on
foraging.
He walked around the herd this way and that. Bending low and crooked he looked
for trails of footprints in the snow, but there were none.
And so the
Moon flew back up into the skies to see from above where Lusa might be – but he
saw nothing.
The sky
darkened to an inky blue as the moon sailed away. Taiga became a man once more
and returned Lusa to her body.
“ He will
come again” Taiga whispered gently. “Run to the Yaranga and I will hide you
there.”
Lusa waited,
listening to the steady breathing of the herd outside in the otherwise silent forest.
The Prince spied Lusa’s soft warm light as it glowed amongst the trees. Under
cloud cover he slyly lowered himself to Earth. Striding determinedly through
the snowdrifts he cut a straight track to the Yaranga and threw back the
entrance flap. At the sight of the empty space his heart sank and he began a
desperate search. Under rugs, in satchels and under coats but Lusa was in none
of those places.
“ Where are
you?” he crooned. He leaped outside into the cold air. Circling the Yaranga and
then the trees, he looked high and low for her.
Running through the forest calling sweetly and playfully the Pale Prince tried to lure her from her hiding
place. Lusa remained a quiet amber light
and said nothing.
When he was
a way into the forest Taiga stomped his hoof in the snow and Lusa became a
woman once more. She peeked out from the entrance flap.
The Moon Prince
beamed and ran to the Yaranga and as he neared the entrance Taiga stomped his
hoof yet again.
The moon hurtled through the flap but there was nothing. He frantically checked
everywhere. He checked coat pockets and tiny boxes but Lusa was nowhere to be
seen.
The Prince
huffed and puffed as he stomped out of the tent. His anger rising, he began recklessly
searching the herd and the sleigh tossing Lusa’s meagre possessions
carelessly into the snow as he went.
Taiga
stomped his hoof again. Lusa peeked out from behind the entrance flap .
“ What’s wrong with you? I’m over here” she giggled.
The Moon burst
into the Yaranga again and again Lusa was nowhere to be seen.
In this way
Taiga and Lusa kept the pale Prince running. Deep into the forest and back to
the Yaranga. Over and over until he was utterly exhausted. When they could see
that he was weak Taiga stomped his hoof once more. This time Lusa faced the
Moon as herself. This time her strength was far greater than his and she pushed
him to the ground and bound his
legs and arms tightly.
She stood
over him. “I am a free spirit,” she said calmly “I do not wish to be captured
or owned by anyone. Nor do I wish to leave my home.” She left him shivering in
the snow shocked, chastised and cold.
The Moon pleaded
with her, “Please, I will freeze to death out here in the snow. Please take me
into the Yaranga and let me warm myself and then I will return to the skies and
never hunt you again.
Lusa pulled
the Prince inside and wrapped
blankets around him. She could not bear to see any being suffer but she was no
fool.
“I don’t
believe you. You may sail back to the
sky but when you are strong again you will return.”
But the moon promised the kind of promise that has eyes of no doubt and he said
“If you set
me free I will share my light with your people.”
So Lusa carried the now warm but still weak Moon back to his vessel and watched
him sail his beautiful boat up into the sea of stars.
And there he still shines – our pale faced prince of the skies that marks our
months and steers our tides and sheds light upon the Northern lands in their
season of darkness. To this day, out of
love and respect for all the free spirited people, he leaves a small beam of moonlight
twinkling in their eyes.
Hello Cathy,
ReplyDeleteI have just found you and your art. I feel entirely charmed by you and what you share and create. Thank you so much for being a magical presence in our world.
This is such a wonderful time to share a story of the strength and wisdom of a woman. Thank you. I will never see the moon the same after your story.
I hope you share your illustrations as you breathe life into them.
Lovely days and nights to you ~
Hey Tammie,
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for your beautiful words. I'm so very happy The Old Burrow has charmed you.
It's such a fascinating story isn't it? I too will always see a pale faced prince in our moon :)
Love to you and yours xx