The Gate to Elsewhere

 

Edgar had heard many times about the gateway -- and according to the locals who lived around Eltenham Forest, several opened into the earth, or into faraway places. He'd always dreamed of finding one, and last summer holiday he spent most of the time investigating old trees and misty dells, with no luck at all. This year, when he'd given up and wasn't even looking anymore, here it was! Maybe the magic worked this way he thought as he ventured closer, and closer ... the harder you looked, the less you were likely to find yourself a gateway to adventure.

Very close now, he could smell the clean, sharp scents of mountain air and hear the calls of strange birds, unlike any that lived anywhere near Eltenham. A chill breeze wafted from the gate, and tendrils of mist crept cautiously through at his feet. Here at Cricklewood Hall, it was a hot afternoon full of droning beetles and the heavy scent of flowers. But far on the other side of the gate, dawn light cascaded down the east side of a range of dragon-fang mountains, and the smell of pine trees prickled his nose.

He was almost at the gate, dying to step through, when he saw the man on the other side -- and the man has seen him!

Enigmata ... "The Shortest Story Ever Told"

 

Enigmata

A princess from out of the aether ―

Not Martian, Venusian, no, neither ―

Landed, hapless, on Earth

Where she promptly gave birth

To offspring that could have been either,

            But ―

From the heavens there issued a roar,

So loud, metalheads shrieked, "Please, no more!"

While Her Highness's child

Merely giggled and smiled

(Though he threw his stewed prunes on the floor)

            Because ―

This princess had pushed the wrong toggle,

In a mishap that makes the mind boggle ―

Came, in error, to Earth,

Quite compelled to give birth...

(Yes. Geneticists do curse and goggle.)

            Then ―

Down from the Vaults of Forever,

In maelstroms of Physics, soooo clever,

The Great Roar (with vast joy)

Beamed up princess and boy,

And, when asked, replied, "We'll return ... never!"

            Yet ―

Indeed, to this day (this part's great)

There's a cult with a somewhat strange trait:

They worship loud noise,

Adore odd-looking boys...

But they're doomed to a rather long wait!

The Lore of Wood and Wild -- Fox

Every creature in the woodland knows that Fox is the forest’s warrior. Often alone, he walks the moonlight patrol, through summer nights, snow and fallen leaves alike. His eyes are the keenest; his ears too … ane he has a nose for blood. He tastes it on the air and water. He owns the hunter’s fangs, and in the season when his precious lady and kits are hidden deep in moonshadows and mystery, his warrior senses prickle alive. He hunts, guards — find him on the warrior path as the nights grow shorter toward summer, when once again he’ll be alone.

Let It Snow

...and then I dropped my cup of tea, because something magical happened that hasn’t since I was a child, no older than Tommy is now. The living room faded away. Every light shone brighter, and snow began to fall gently, silently, around the tree. I’d promised him, if he was very quiet and still, and watched, and watched, it could happen — a ruse, to get Tommy to take a nap on Christmas Eve, while mom snatched an hour of rest where she could. He’d fallen asleep — always the plan … and I hadn’t believed in magic in so many years.  

The Lore of Wood and Wild: Rabbit

Now, Rabbit is always the first awake in the forest -- about the time Fox and Owl are going to bed. Never forget that Fox and Owl are the woodland's warriors, while Rabbit ... ah, Rabbit is the forest's sentinel. Although she's usually too timid to fight off your enemies, she's worth ten of the rest because, with her big, keen eyes she sees danger coming from afar, and her white-tailed warning summons the warriors. This is the lore of Wood and Wilds.

The Lore of Wood and Wild: Squirrel

On silent, catlike paws autumn comes stealing through the forest, bringing gold and copper to the deep glens and silver mist to the valley, crackling frost to the dawn and a hush of profound peace to the evening. Squirrel smells the coming of autumn long before it arrives; she is the forest's timekeeper, pointing the way to winter even on warm afternoons, where mossy shadows drowse and midges dance. Watch out for Squirrel and be vigilant, for winter cannot be long away, and time is always, always far shorter than we think! This is the Lore of Wood and Wild.

The Lore of Wood and Wild: Owl

 

Moonlight settles over the forest like a silvery cloak, and Owl wakes with big yellow eyes, and the muted sound of wings. Night is a different world, with eddies, currents, tides. Wolves know this, and the wisdom of Foxes runs deep. But the deepest knowing of all belongs to Owl, whose sun is the moon and whose day is the night. Unseen, Owl hunts and loves and dreams; unseen, Owl lives and dies, for night is filled with peril and not for the faint of heart. Courage alone will spirit you there. This is the Lore of Wood and Wild.

The Door into the Earth

 

After the rain, the old creek bed sparkled like a shallow stream. She followed it until the trees were almost too thick -- and there, in the last place she'd have thought to look for it, was a doorway. A doorway leading into the earth. She crept closer, thinking it looked a thousand years old, yet there on the threshold sat a black cat, with great golden eyes watching her intently, as if she were an intruder. Perhaps no one passed this way anymore. Perhaps, she thought, someone lived here.