walking.
It always amazes me how silent we are. How almost everyone from Seed can walk through the forest and up the craggy path to the hilltop rocks, yet there’s hardly a murmur between us. Papa S. is at the front, leading the way through the lifting darkness. Looking back, I can just see Elizabeth and I can tell that she’s uncomfortable. The baby in her belly must almost be full-size and it makes her steps heavy and slow. Her blonde hair is tied back from her face, but it still shines in the darkness. She leans on the staff that Kindred Smith made for Nana Willow.
The wind is resting and all around us the blackbirds are singing. Walking like this always makes it worth being woken frommy dreams.
Turning the corner in the path, there is the outline of Dawn Rocks in the hillside ahead of us. We will sit there to greet the sun. And as we get closer, I am sure that I can hear Mother Nature whispering to me, hiding just out of reach behind the solid gray.
When we reach the rocks, I sit next to Jack, who has Ruby on his lap. His warmth spreads into me and I barely shiver. I reach down until I feel his fingers in mine. Heather holds my other hand. She smiles at me, but she has lost something from behind her eyes. Each day it feels like the real her tiptoes away, replaced by someone edged in sadness. Is she really being taken by jealousy? It makes me uncomfortable, as no one is unhappy at Seed.
Slowly, the blackness around us changes and color seeps into everything. The cluster of trees below move from murky gray, to blue, to green. The fields shimmer purple, before the rising sun splashes them too. I hold my breath. This is my very favorite time and I want to slow it down, remember everything I see, everything I feel.
When the blue of the sky begins to push through, Papa S. stands up and lifts his palm toward the sun. We stay sitting, but we let go of each other’s hands and reach our own palms upward. I can never be happier. I look at Jack. His head is tipped toward the sky and my eyes follow the line of his neck.
“Thank you, Mother Nature,” says Papa S.
“Thank you, Mother Nature,” we all repeat, our voices lifting to the sun.
Papa S. sits on the ground. We watch as he lays his hands flat on the grass. It’s a hand I know so well, with white skin barely touched by the sun. When he looks at us, we know that it’s time to begin.
“Nature,” we chant. “We thank you for leading Papa S. to Seed. He saved us. He protects us. In return, we give you everything.” The words flow out of me, and I speak with my family as one. “Because we need nothing more. We have Kindreds to guide us, we have food, we have love. We listen to you, Mother Nature, only you.”
We kiss our palms, touch them onto the earth.
Suddenly Papa S. begins to shake. His arm is raised again, but this time it is as though someone invisible is yanking at him and his whole body jolts. His hair shudders against his back. Bobby looks toward me for comfort, but I’m frightened too.
Kindred John gets up.
“Stay back,” Papa S. demands. His voice is deep and rumbles around the rock. I want to block my ears, hear only the comfort of his normal voice. But strange sounds are coming from him and words that make no sense, louder and louder until his head is thrown back, both arms outstretched above him.
When at last he sinks to the ground, his arms lie flat on the earth and he looks at us all with blazing blue eyes. Then he smiles.
“I have learned something new,” he says quietly, his voice now his own. “I have learned that someone among us needs forgiveness. Someone here has let their pure soul become muddied.”
Some of my family shift slightly where they’re sitting. A sign of guilt? I am completely still, but my mind is flicking back in panic through my memory. Is it me? I think of being in that hole in the ground. Had he secretly been watching me? Did he know my fear? I try to stay calm as Papa S. looks at us all. I try to block out
It always amazes me how silent we are. How almost everyone from Seed can walk through the forest and up the craggy path to the hilltop rocks, yet there’s hardly a murmur between us. Papa S. is at the front, leading the way through the lifting darkness. Looking back, I can just see Elizabeth and I can tell that she’s uncomfortable. The baby in her belly must almost be full-size and it makes her steps heavy and slow. Her blonde hair is tied back from her face, but it still shines in the darkness. She leans on the staff that Kindred Smith made for Nana Willow.
The wind is resting and all around us the blackbirds are singing. Walking like this always makes it worth being woken frommy dreams.
Turning the corner in the path, there is the outline of Dawn Rocks in the hillside ahead of us. We will sit there to greet the sun. And as we get closer, I am sure that I can hear Mother Nature whispering to me, hiding just out of reach behind the solid gray.
When we reach the rocks, I sit next to Jack, who has Ruby on his lap. His warmth spreads into me and I barely shiver. I reach down until I feel his fingers in mine. Heather holds my other hand. She smiles at me, but she has lost something from behind her eyes. Each day it feels like the real her tiptoes away, replaced by someone edged in sadness. Is she really being taken by jealousy? It makes me uncomfortable, as no one is unhappy at Seed.
Slowly, the blackness around us changes and color seeps into everything. The cluster of trees below move from murky gray, to blue, to green. The fields shimmer purple, before the rising sun splashes them too. I hold my breath. This is my very favorite time and I want to slow it down, remember everything I see, everything I feel.
When the blue of the sky begins to push through, Papa S. stands up and lifts his palm toward the sun. We stay sitting, but we let go of each other’s hands and reach our own palms upward. I can never be happier. I look at Jack. His head is tipped toward the sky and my eyes follow the line of his neck.
“Thank you, Mother Nature,” says Papa S.
“Thank you, Mother Nature,” we all repeat, our voices lifting to the sun.
Papa S. sits on the ground. We watch as he lays his hands flat on the grass. It’s a hand I know so well, with white skin barely touched by the sun. When he looks at us, we know that it’s time to begin.
“Nature,” we chant. “We thank you for leading Papa S. to Seed. He saved us. He protects us. In return, we give you everything.” The words flow out of me, and I speak with my family as one. “Because we need nothing more. We have Kindreds to guide us, we have food, we have love. We listen to you, Mother Nature, only you.”
We kiss our palms, touch them onto the earth.
Suddenly Papa S. begins to shake. His arm is raised again, but this time it is as though someone invisible is yanking at him and his whole body jolts. His hair shudders against his back. Bobby looks toward me for comfort, but I’m frightened too.
Kindred John gets up.
“Stay back,” Papa S. demands. His voice is deep and rumbles around the rock. I want to block my ears, hear only the comfort of his normal voice. But strange sounds are coming from him and words that make no sense, louder and louder until his head is thrown back, both arms outstretched above him.
When at last he sinks to the ground, his arms lie flat on the earth and he looks at us all with blazing blue eyes. Then he smiles.
“I have learned something new,” he says quietly, his voice now his own. “I have learned that someone among us needs forgiveness. Someone here has let their pure soul become muddied.”
Some of my family shift slightly where they’re sitting. A sign of guilt? I am completely still, but my mind is flicking back in panic through my memory. Is it me? I think of being in that hole in the ground. Had he secretly been watching me? Did he know my fear? I try to stay calm as Papa S. looks at us all. I try to block out
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