Part 4
Part 3
Part 2
Down in the valley, there is a small village
resting on a river just where its course makes a wide bend. So many
times David had asked himself if that bend meant the river held
little enthusiasm in meeting the country there; perhaps the river
was disappointed because the landscape was so different from how it
had been built by its watercourse over centuries. Of the ancient
village, only a few ruins remained; the old rural houses had given
way to newer buildings—leaner and more versatile. So, the river
frequently offended that country by flooding it, and, in turn, that
country returned its unkindness by making its banks nasty.
Avoiding disputes between village and river, David preferred to walk through the countryside—the green spaces without honor and glory—the rare places still guarded by farmers’ intransigence and their difficult character.
As he crossed their fields, David would offer the farmers a casual greeting, and sometimes he added, with his best smile, a few sentences about their hard work and about the weather. However, the farmers did not care much about his friendly approaches; on the contrary, they looked with suspicion at his usual walk through the countryside as a stranger at the front door.
Rarely, their meetings came to a smile. But, over time, he was accepted and regarded as a small, harmless imperfection.
Over time, the farmers became comfortable with David’s presence, which allowed him access to a small piece of land—the Wood of Plane. The path, made of hard ground rammed by tractors, had a road of little white stones, a small lawn separating it from the cropland and a long row of sycamores overhanging the ditch running along the side of the path. Midway down its length, there were some small locust trees, and near the end of the path a weeping willow threw its branches into the water. There, the little stream was so wide it seemed to be a pond. Beyond the plane trees, the path extinguished like a snuffed-out candle. Swallows, blackbirds, and a few small sparrows lived around there; frogs hopped in the ditch, and tiny fishes swam in the pond. The small lawn between the path and the cropland was populated by all the animals that normally live in the countryside.
It was a path like many others—without any special features. Yet there it was—an invisible door through which David was able to reach a different world. Suddenly, like a rising curtain, his eyes were opened to images not at all comparable with that little piece of countryside.
Avoiding disputes between village and river, David preferred to walk through the countryside—the green spaces without honor and glory—the rare places still guarded by farmers’ intransigence and their difficult character.
As he crossed their fields, David would offer the farmers a casual greeting, and sometimes he added, with his best smile, a few sentences about their hard work and about the weather. However, the farmers did not care much about his friendly approaches; on the contrary, they looked with suspicion at his usual walk through the countryside as a stranger at the front door.
Rarely, their meetings came to a smile. But, over time, he was accepted and regarded as a small, harmless imperfection.
Over time, the farmers became comfortable with David’s presence, which allowed him access to a small piece of land—the Wood of Plane. The path, made of hard ground rammed by tractors, had a road of little white stones, a small lawn separating it from the cropland and a long row of sycamores overhanging the ditch running along the side of the path. Midway down its length, there were some small locust trees, and near the end of the path a weeping willow threw its branches into the water. There, the little stream was so wide it seemed to be a pond. Beyond the plane trees, the path extinguished like a snuffed-out candle. Swallows, blackbirds, and a few small sparrows lived around there; frogs hopped in the ditch, and tiny fishes swam in the pond. The small lawn between the path and the cropland was populated by all the animals that normally live in the countryside.
It was a path like many others—without any special features. Yet there it was—an invisible door through which David was able to reach a different world. Suddenly, like a rising curtain, his eyes were opened to images not at all comparable with that little piece of countryside.
Wood of Plane - Incipit
Wood of Plane
Part 1
Blues Ale Publishing
April 2023
Paperback:
ISBN 979-12-81450-01-1
Pages 274
Target Price: $ 11
E-book Kindle
ISBN 979-12-81450-02-8
Target Price: $ 3
April 2023
Paperback:
ISBN 979-12-81450-01-1
Pages 274
Target Price: $ 11
E-book Kindle
ISBN 979-12-81450-02-8
Target Price: $ 3
Fairy Tales
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Second Generation
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Wood of Plane
