Hortensia had found herself becoming increasingly bold every time Harold came for a walk in the Forest. She had started looking forward to his arrival and even enjoying the thought of time spent in his company. Harold himself was amazed at his changed behaviour, for even though the mornings were frosty and the air chilly at mid day, he still found himself heading off every afternoon into the forest for a wander.
Soon his holidays would be over and he would be returning to the city and his work. Just lately his thinking had started to change, even though he still thought about clearing the forest for his planning application for a housing estate, he had begun to feel a reluctance and resistance within himself at the thought of what he would miss. He had come to realise that he felt at home in the forest in a way that he never did when back in the city, somehow he felt that if he could only spend more time walking in the trees, that he would remember more of what really mattered - and the hopes and dreams that he had once believed in.
As soon as he entered the forest Hortensia would go to wait for him at the Sacred Circle, the trees no longer tried to trip him up or to put obstacles in his way, but would send a rustle on the leaves to alert the gnomes that he was on his way. Harold was very warmly dressed these days with a hat and gloves and several layers, including a thermal vest and proper boots instead of his shiny shoes. As he settled down at the base of his favourite tree to have a think and a day dream, he would find himself slipping into a gentle snooze.
Well, that was Hortensia's cue, she had consulted Aunt Mildred and made up a suitable balm of chamomile and lavender and would start to gently rub the soothing balm into his temples. She had taken to singing to him, songs to remind him of who he was, as she called them when asked by Archibold what she was singing about.
This particular day she was singing about Spring in the Forest and reminding herself that even as the forest was settling into slow winter time, that the buds of Spring were preparing for their time of unfurling new growth. She was so busy with her singing and remembering and the rubbing of her soothing balm, that she forgot to keep an eye on baby Harriet. Ever since baby Harriet had been given her blue stone of promise from Lady Eleanora, she had taken to being even more independent than normal. With a most speedy and dexterous crawl, she crept up Harold's sleeping form and curled up on the soft cashmere scarf inside his tweed jacket, for a little nap next to his heart.
Hortensia saw Harold begin to wake up just as she saw baby Harriet stretching her arms out and gurgling from her nest just inside his jacket. Ignoring her Mother's frantic pleas and gestures she began to crawl closer to Harold's sleepy face. 'Oh no, Harriet, what have I done? Come here, Oh please come here'. Not in the least daunted, Harriet crawled onto Harold's shoulder and smiled at him as he opened his eyes in stunned amazement.
Sunday 18 December 2011
Sunday 11 December 2011
A little rest and the beginning of remembering......
Harold was sitting on the mossy bank, with his sock still in his hand and one shoe off, staring in disbelief. First of all, he was faced with the reality of several gnomes performing acrobatics right in front of his face, swinging and leaping from the tree branches and almost landing on his lap. Stephanotis had become a bit overexcited and was performing double somersaults and back flips and even tossing his hat in-between leaps. Then, as if that wasn't enough for poor Harold to take in, there was the sight and sounds of a small band of gnomes blowing and banging on their tiny drums and trumpets - well it was all too much to take in - and as you can imagine, Harold fainted clean away from the shock.
'Oh Dear, ' said Hortensia 'we have overdone it again, humans don't seem to have the same stamina for the unusual as we do, the poor boy has collapsed again.' The gnomes gathered around, Humperdinck proposed playing a soothing lullaby but was soon overruled. They all agreed to think again and leave matters for another day, after all Harold was bound to convince himself that he had been dreaming a very strange dream after hitting his head on a branch. It is a sad and well known fact that humans have a very hard time accepting the reality of gnomes living in their midst.
Indeed it is true that when Harold came to, he did think that perhaps he was suffering from concussion, but as he stroked his forehead he remembered something of the softness of a gentle touch that had soothed away some of his anxiety. Whatever it was, or however he justified his thinking, over the next few days Harold started coming to the wood and making his was to the Sacred Circle for a nap on a regular basis. Hortensia was always ready to stroke his forehead and slowly his worry lines did begin to fade and once in a while a faint smile would show that Harold was having a happy dream for the first time in many a year.
The gnomes knew that the longer Harold spent in the wood, the less appealing the idea of selling it would become. The more he remembered something that he almost forgotten - something that he longed to properly remember - something that teased him when he woke up, something that was ever edging closer each time he had a little rest in the forest - the more the possibilities for something truly extraordinary to happen would increase.
'Oh Dear, ' said Hortensia 'we have overdone it again, humans don't seem to have the same stamina for the unusual as we do, the poor boy has collapsed again.' The gnomes gathered around, Humperdinck proposed playing a soothing lullaby but was soon overruled. They all agreed to think again and leave matters for another day, after all Harold was bound to convince himself that he had been dreaming a very strange dream after hitting his head on a branch. It is a sad and well known fact that humans have a very hard time accepting the reality of gnomes living in their midst.
Indeed it is true that when Harold came to, he did think that perhaps he was suffering from concussion, but as he stroked his forehead he remembered something of the softness of a gentle touch that had soothed away some of his anxiety. Whatever it was, or however he justified his thinking, over the next few days Harold started coming to the wood and making his was to the Sacred Circle for a nap on a regular basis. Hortensia was always ready to stroke his forehead and slowly his worry lines did begin to fade and once in a while a faint smile would show that Harold was having a happy dream for the first time in many a year.
The gnomes knew that the longer Harold spent in the wood, the less appealing the idea of selling it would become. The more he remembered something that he almost forgotten - something that he longed to properly remember - something that teased him when he woke up, something that was ever edging closer each time he had a little rest in the forest - the more the possibilities for something truly extraordinary to happen would increase.
Saturday 3 December 2011
Shortbread and a wiff of garlic...
They were all in place waiting for Harold to wake up. The thing was that Harold was having an especially wonderful dream and had no intention of waking up anytime soon. Most humans fell asleep as soon as they stumbled across or entered the Sacred Circle, and it has to be said that if a human was in a rush or not in tune with their surroundings, that they would inevitably be overcome and soon fall into a deep sleep. Gnomes have such a different sense of time - happy quick time, happy slow time, slow winter dream time - well, the list is endless and pretty unfathomable to humans. Any place where they live and frequently come together to celebrate or meet up, has an especially different air. In fact one of the ways you can find out if a place that you suspect is a gnome meeting place - really is one - is to quietly enter and see if you begin to feel a dreamy, expanded sort of peaceful doziness - the answer is very likely yes if you do!
Aunt Mildred was beginning to feel a little bored, she wasn't feeling particularly kindly towards Harold so it was easy to be bored. She had looked inside her basket and been most disappointed to find that there wasn't even a supply of mint humbugs - 'shows what a panic we were all in when that ridiculous man came stumbling into the forest - no sensible supplies to pass around and share'. Luckily Hortensia had put some of her special crumbly shortbread in Archibold's pockets that morning so they soon were feeling fortified by a bit of biscuit while they waited.
Hortensia was still stroking Harold's forehead trying to ease the worry lines, this was partially why Harold was having such a good dream, he hadn't slept this well for years and his whole body was relaxing into the moss as he gently slumbered on. The other reason that he was sleeping so deeply could have been because of the kindness that he felt all around him. Archibold and Stephanotis had had a good feel of his ankle and carefully rubbed some of Aunt Mildred's homemade liniment around the strain and the bump where he had banged his head.
Soon twilight began and the gnomes skilfully hid as Hortensia cut open and waved a piece of fresh garlic under Harold's nose. He opened his eyes and found himself thinking about how hungry he was and that he hadn't felt so well in ages - 'how amazing; he thought, 'fancy there being some blackberries on the moss right by me, most have caught on my clothes and dropped off as I fell'. He gobbled up the blackberries and started to put his sock on, his ankle felt as good as new and he was ready to get up and be on his way when he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye and found himself staring in amazement hardly daring to breathe.
Aunt Mildred was beginning to feel a little bored, she wasn't feeling particularly kindly towards Harold so it was easy to be bored. She had looked inside her basket and been most disappointed to find that there wasn't even a supply of mint humbugs - 'shows what a panic we were all in when that ridiculous man came stumbling into the forest - no sensible supplies to pass around and share'. Luckily Hortensia had put some of her special crumbly shortbread in Archibold's pockets that morning so they soon were feeling fortified by a bit of biscuit while they waited.
Hortensia was still stroking Harold's forehead trying to ease the worry lines, this was partially why Harold was having such a good dream, he hadn't slept this well for years and his whole body was relaxing into the moss as he gently slumbered on. The other reason that he was sleeping so deeply could have been because of the kindness that he felt all around him. Archibold and Stephanotis had had a good feel of his ankle and carefully rubbed some of Aunt Mildred's homemade liniment around the strain and the bump where he had banged his head.
Soon twilight began and the gnomes skilfully hid as Hortensia cut open and waved a piece of fresh garlic under Harold's nose. He opened his eyes and found himself thinking about how hungry he was and that he hadn't felt so well in ages - 'how amazing; he thought, 'fancy there being some blackberries on the moss right by me, most have caught on my clothes and dropped off as I fell'. He gobbled up the blackberries and started to put his sock on, his ankle felt as good as new and he was ready to get up and be on his way when he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye and found himself staring in amazement hardly daring to breathe.
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