Day 20 - The Adventure

You bought yourself a smartwatch, the brightest on display.
You're using it count your steps, 10,000 every day.
But oft you find as midnight draws, you still have some to take
And so you go out for a walk, around a nearby lake.

The lake is sited in a dip, the sides are lined with trees.
The path though well maintained and flat, is overgrown with reeds.
By day it's like a Turner print, by night it's like a Manet.
And when the moon shines on that lake, the surface looks like honey.

On one of these occasions, a coldness fills the air.
You feel a prickling on your neck. Is something over there?
You hear the crunching down of leaves, you see the branches sway.
You think you see a shadow move along the lakeside way.

If you climb up away from the lake to get a better look, turn to page 12

If you approach the disturbance, turn to page 9

If you slowly back up the way you came, turn to page 31

 

 

 

Day 19 - The Argument

The Sky was feeling quite pleased with itself. It had put a bit of effort into its appearance and, when it caught a glimpse in the mirror, said. "Yes, looking blue, looking very blue."

"Right", said Earth who had been super busy as usual, working hard on the look of multiple habitats at the same time; desert, forest, grassland, and mountain. 

Ha, thought Sky, who could never understand why Earth would concentrate on so many regional ecosystems at once. "Perhaps you try too hard?"

Sky never tries at all, thought Earth. Just sits there making itself blue all day, "You wouldn't understand".

"I mean why do you need so many types of grassland? You can't need savannah, tundra, prairie, and steppe?"

"A prairie is a steppe, you atmospheric sphere." 

Ocean listened to them argue and tried to sleep. Ocean didn't want to tell them that The Sun had been round earlier demanding tribute again. Threatening to dose them with even more solar radiation. Ocean was just glad they had Magnetic Field outside keeping them safe.

Day 18 - The Rings

At the start of every season are the signs that mark the last.

A tree alters itself to note the change 

The times of hardship and the times of growth are all a part of its being.

The tree uses its own self as a diary. 

Day 17 - The E's

The Evergreen veers, swerves. Ends rested eleven metres skewed, left breeched. Deep letters leered. The lesser vessels reeled. Steered left. The men necked blended green refreshments, then felt refreshed. They texted the press. 

Teeny desert jeeps help free the fleet.

The ferrets flee the scene. They seeded the event.
They bent the levers. They needed fewer vessels. 

Day 16 - The Morning

In the cold dark morning hours, as consciousness falls in, you try to scatter the fog that fills you mind. While you strive to enter the waking world, you look behind to try and hold your dream.  
It dances out of reach, appears to give you a choice between both worlds, but it has already left. What remains is just an envoy, a mere reflection of that dream, and even that you are forgetting. 

You get up, head to the bathroom, brush teeth, and go downstairs. 
You pour yourself some cereal and sit down to watch the tigers flying by the window.
Oh darn, alas you're still asleep. You hadn't yet escaped the Sandman's grasp. 

You struggle into wakefulness, look up at the ceiling, and pull yourself up.
This time you open wide the curtains, letting all that light inside, to stimulate your mind to wake. You gather clothes together, preparing what to wear for the day. 
You cant quite differentiate your darker socks, so you hold them up against the bright green sky. 
Oh confound and dash it.

This time you wake properly from sleep. The light is right. You shower and take coffee. 
Dressing for outdoors, you grab your keys and head outside, only pausing to pat your pet pink penguin on their prickly head.
All is right with the world. 

Day 15 - The break out

 
Now hidden in the catacomb a message written on a crypt.
That led them to a basement where a very ancient manuscript
was lying there forgotten by the world for half a century
about a man who helped his wife escape from penitentiary.

She had been down for murder but identity was never made.
In fact the victim was alive and living in the everglade.
I say alive but really she had joined the host vampirical,
then faked her death and framed her friend with evidence empirical.

He knew that if he told the truth no one would take him seriously.
He visited but could not stand that she should live vicariously.
And so he came up with a plan to free her from captivity.
And vowed that he would never rest until she gained her liberty.

The plan involved a football match, an eagle, and a rodeo.
A gun carved from a bar of soap, and knives made out of toblerone.
A tunnel dug out with a spoon, a guy in laundry sorting socks, 
a chisel hidden in a cake, a convoy, and a vaulting box.

A vicar's costume stolen after breaking into church at night. 
A bag of snakes, a boxing match, and realigning searching lights.
A riot, and explosions, and an outbreak of mild dysentery.
With all of these distractions, she just wandered out the prison free.

And reunited at long last they vowed that they would take revenge,
upon their one time friend, undead, who now no more could make amends.
They booked a train to Florida, and packed their bags with pointy sticks,
with holy water, crossbows, and a silver inlaid crucifix.

They tracked her to a disused house which sweltered by a cherry tree,
behind which in the swampy ground there lay a mini cemetery.
An empty coffin in a crypt beside it a small campfire burned,
as they approached a shadow moved and that was when the vampire turned.

"Because of you for 3 years I was left to rot in county jail.
Before I rid this world of you I want to hear your founding tale.
How did you end up in this state? A vampire and a criminal?"
The vampire laughed "my sire was a modern major general."

"He's standing right behind you and he'll turn you to the other side,
unless you kill him quickly now you'll wish that you had rather died".
But here the writing finished on that fifty year old document.
They looked each other in the eye and wondered how the story went.

 
And that was when they realised in the basement they were not alone. 
Two figures had been sitting there and watching as they read the tome.
Were they the vampire, and her sire the modern major general?
Or had that woman with her man defeated those nontemporal?

Day 14 - They did not come from outer space

Slow the fog creeps in. Settles on skin and goes deep in. I remember you freaking. Standing arms wide and leaping. Demanding we hide from the dogs that were seeking to track us all down for the reaping. We never lied nor cried as we slipped from sight in the forest. Below the logs the fog  won't reach and the Earth is breathing. The fungi forever bequeathing the soil its due while keeping the fog at bay. We toil and through endeavour, we foil the blue and clever creatures with the elongated features that have taken over the land today. 

They came from the beaches. Shaking off the sand that was clinging to their hands and feet, their fingers like leaches, reaching for our skin to let the fog in, curling into our pores. We bandage up the sores and keep score. They were not aliens. Not from another world. They hadn't hurled through space in a ship to face us. They had been here the whole time, giving no sign no slip, that they came from the sea, deeper than a coalmine. Watching, clocking, all this time and mocking us our puny civilisation. Our nations crumbled before us. The cities rumbled to sawdust. 

But still we stood and hid in our hood, the bold and the bad and the good. Striking hiding. While we the old and the mad in the woods were hiking, staying out of reach and biding our time by the ford and the logs. Praying that those leach-like hands wouldn't find us and bind us to the fog and remind us they were our lord. But no chord is louder then the collective, harmonic, respective defiance of those demonic creatures from the oceans. No potion stronger than uniting and fighting together as one until the day is done. 

And so we struggle on, a tug of war of guerrilla antics to muddle our opponents. Striking from the interior against their superior strength and tactics. And we would be winning if it wasn't for the fog. But they would have won if it wasn't for the logs. 

Day 13 - The Choice

Oh we could feed the world if we wanted
There's more than enough food to see us through
Just think how great 
to have a meal on every plate 
And it wouldn't be that hard to do.

Oh we could end all war if we wanted 
if we didn't worry who is ruling who
It would be such heaven
if we didn't use our weapons
And it wouldn't be that hard to do.

Oh we could stop the hate if we wanted
Just teach people everyone's the same
Deep down we're all together 
We could live in peace for ever
Its so easy having nobody to blame. 

We could clean the seas and skies if we wanted.
We could power things from wind and wave and sun
Just imagine the emotion
if we had a living ocean
And this wouldn't be that hard to fund

You see

we've done all of the hard things already
We send people off to space 
Sculpture artworks full of grace
Ancient origins we trace 
Detailed maps of every place
Construct buildings fine as lace
Mind computer interface
Hearts and lungs and hips replace.
All the hardships that we've faced
lockdowns, virus, in one place,
has prepared the human race 
to be so much on the case.

That now 
right now 
we could actually save the world

Day 12 - The beach

Breaking on the steps of the beach 
the waves hit the shore
as they had before.
Can you hear them?

Now with humans long out of reach,
more turtles could hatch
an entire batch.
Can you see them?

Hurling selves on sand through the night
they scurry along
and keep going strong.
Now you watch them.

Battling the wind and the sand
till they reach the sea
where they can swim free.
You can't catch them.

All they want is to get on with life.
No real difference to you or I.
Through the hardship until we can fly.
All that we can do is try. 

Day 11 - The find

Hills and jagged lines
Sun approaches skyline
Clouds pinken and redden
Easy on the eye-line.
He sits down to rest  
No one is around
On a lush green hill 
He takes out what he found.
Weighs it in his hand 
He holds it to the light
Smooth and dark and flat
Fits in palm just right.
Voices from below
Hitting leaves with sticks
Upright taller beings
Strange wise and foolish mix.
He gets up to leave
Heading up the hill
Prickling of his fur
Says perhaps stay still.
They come out of  trees.
Bares his jagged teeth
But voices that he knows
On the hill beneath.
Recognise their smell
Friends he knows are these,
Standing upright now
hands beside his knees.
"There you are Golden
and you found her phone.
Jane was getting worried
now off you go on home."

https://janegoodall.ca/our-stories/famous-chimps-of-gombe/