Breadliness and Godliness

Wee G and I celebrated Lammas here in Seattle by walking down into the woods, taking the East West Blackberry Road along the path past Diplodocus Trench and out to the Apple Woods, where he climbed the low, sturdy, rambling trees and we had a picnic snack of fresh pain a l’ancienne (thanks, Mike!) with Fuji apple slices and water and bittersweet chocolate. We lay on the sloping ground and I told him stories of friend gnome celebrating Lammas, of the God and his happy-sad relationship to summer, of the children of the forest celebrating the first of the harvest holidays with a berry picking. Then we wandered back home to our friends’ house, along the way toward which he led me down into an icy stream, under a pitch-dark web-draped bridge to a “secret gnome beach” where we had to ask permission from the gnomes before we could play there. The next day, when we came back, our secret beach, untouched and water-smoothed sand, held one single menacingly clawed print. We hazarded guesses as to the kind of animal it might be, but there was no sense of fear; the animal print was merely part of the mythological world we inhabit when we pass along the East West Blackberry Road into the forest, just as the dead mouse and the mosquitoes are. Which is not to say that the forest holds no dangers; of course it does. But that is my business, which I keep to myself. For Geeklet, for now, the forest is a new and wonderful place, a land more miraculous than Oz, and each time we embark on a wander we have accepted an invitation. He lays out the itinerary and keeps the travelogue; I take care of fuel, mileage, and buffalo crossing the road.


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