The second Saturday discussion and creative prompts centered around natural phenomena: earthquakes, mountain formations, typhoons, etc. Interesting highlights of that discussion were the similarities in tales across mythology and the almost universal need to tell stories of how it happens. Especially the scary stuff. We talked about how in myth, there is a warning to others, a protocol established in face of the immense – Nature, God, what you will.
After we shared our pieces, I asked each of my fellow writers to describe the community in which their pieces took place. They were able to describe in detail the location and kind of setting and people. It always amazes me how much a storyteller has within, that is never directly shared, but is visible to the hearer nonetheless. Because they see it, we see it.
We also had a visitor join us for the final discussion. We think he was attracted to the warmth and color of those awesome pink socks! Anoles like stories too!
Okay, so here is my tale. Please, feel free to share your own in the comments and/or any thoughts you have to continue the discussion.
Zephy and Phyr, Daughters of the North Wind
The North Wind had two daughters and seven sons. He divided his wind duties amongst his sons, giving each of them dominion over each of the seas. His two daughters, the youngest two of his mighty brood, were not assigned any duties. Blustering, bellowing, and blowing were not lady like endeavors, after all.
For the second youngest, Zephy, this was just fine. She wore light colored dresses and walked lazily through the long grass picking up dandelions, letting them drift along with her. She would kiss the faces of the animals she walked by and rustle their fur, feathers, and hair.
Now, Phyr, the youngest, was not sated by this sedate lifestyle. She wore dresses, yes, but they were in grays, blues, and black. She had talents as wonderful as her brothers, and, in some cases, she far excelled their skills. She pleaded with her father to give her more meaningful responsibilities than wearing dresses and walking through fields and forests.
“You are a lady, Phyr.” The North Wind sighed, “There are protocols to follow. I know you’re gifted, and I am proud of you. But, there are rules and dresses are a must for girls.”
“But, I want to do more, and dresses are too restrictive!” Phyr pleaded.
“I’ll tell you what,” her Dad relented, “You may exercise your gifts however you wish, but you must remain in the forests and fields and in a dress.”
Phyr knew not to press her father further and demurred. She went out into the fields to join Zephy. She was not daunted though, and decided to find out what she was working with.
She began to sway right to left and her skirts flowed and filled with air. The grass around her began to bend lower to the ground, swaying with her. Phyr’s heart began to beat a little faster. She raised up arms, stretching them out away from her, and she began to twirl. Faster and faster she spun; she lifted off the ground and her hair streamed around her. She laughed and laughed, and spun and spun. When she slowed and lowered to the ground she laughed dizzily and bent down to regain her composure. Then she lifted up, Zephy was standing in front of her looking a little disheveled herself.
“Phyr! look what you’ve done!”
Looking back there was a line of destruction – pulled up roots, flowers, and grass. Animals stumbled to their feet and looked around dazed. Phyr looked around, still panting, and stared wide-eyed at her sister saying, “That was awesome!”
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