The Sky seems empty only to those who cannot fly …
We are many
We are One.
We are unseen under the Sun
But under the Dark One, we sparkle as if touched by the golden hand of the Sun.
In the deepest ocean where the Sun never ventures, and only the Dark One adventures … Our cousins glimmer and flicker like tiny morsels of the Golden One.
Under the stars we dance with a blue green fire in the darkest forests, and we glow in earthly corners under the black mantle of the Dark One.
Indeed we do. Under the Sky at night, each and every One.
And the Sun?
She is asleep in the River; she cannot see us, not one, not Anyone.
Unseen by the Sun
But not unseen by Everyone.
Have we borrowed the light of the Sun?
No, indeed. Light is not the sole domain of the Golden One. Light can indeed be worn by Anyone from the deepest ocean to the darkest forest
Anywhere, anywhen …
There is a pond in a forest. The surface of the pond is unbroken, disturbed only by concentric ripples caused by various insects, flying, hovering, dipping, and diving but never quite breaking the surface skin of the pond. For those that fly and hover on the surface, the pond is the World.
There are trees in the forest that surround the pond. Each tree is a World, and the forest, too, is a World.
There are also two worlds that exist both within and without the world of the forest. These two worlds are defined, not by the physical domain of wood, trees, earth, and water, but by light. While there are significant overlaps, the world of the forest by day is startlingly different from the world of the forest by night. For instance, fireflies do not dance in the world of the day. This is simply the way of things, and it will never change.
The bluest sky is reflected in the deepest ocean, and the moods of the ocean change with the motions of the Sky: from the wildest to the mildest.
The ocean is one world, and it consists of many worlds. There are also worlds in the ocean, like the forest, that are defined by light, or more particularly sunlight: its presence and absence. There are creatures of all sizes that exist within these two worlds. There are overlaps, to be sure, but the differences sparkle! Literally. Like fireflies dancing in the forests in the night, so do creatures in the sea sparkle and glitter like starlight. This is the way of things, and it will never change.
One day, a small bird swooped down from the Sky. She swooped in an arc across the Sun’s bright golden eye.
By all accounts, it was a blue bird with a sharp black beak and ruffles of white in its tail feathers. These accounts, of which I speak, are to be found lapping gently upon the shore, for it is there, they said, that the small bird first found its place. It was cousin to the seagulls, said eyewitnesses that sparkled in waves at night. So many eyewitnesses are hard to discount.
The time of day is important, say our analysts, and who are we to argue? As previously mentioned, the bird was arcing across the golden Sun, but what was not mentioned was that it was at the time when the Sun was but a few steps from her rest, sinking, red-gold, into the horizon. It was the between-time for the worlds of night and day.
The bird grew hungry, and indeed, this was the reason for its soaring approach in the first place, we are given to understand. Our eyewitnesses tell us that the bird was a swooper of some note, and the small fish that had caught its sharp eye hadn’t the shadow of a chance. Now this small fish was not part of the bird’s regular diet, for it (the bird) belonged to the world of day, and the other (the fish) was a dark dweller. But the bird was hungry, as we have ascertained, and in that state, was not particular about its palate, and swallowed the fish in haste.
Our eyewitnesses once again recount that this fish was a sparkler like them. Due to the nature of light in water (it does not go as far as light on water), creatures that belong to the world of the Dark One do not necessarily appear at the same time as nighttime dwellers on land. Some, particularly those that inhabit the deeper reaches of the ocean, are forever locked in a world of utter darkness, broken only by such light as might be produced by them. The small fish that the bird espied was not a creature that dwelt in the nether portions of the sea, but nevertheless, its life revolved around a lightscale different to that of the bird that flew above the sea.
Is the timing so important? we asked. And we were assured by our analysts that this was the cause of all that came to be in the thereafter, and who, in the world, are we to argue with such authority?
But one fish? One single fish? we retorted, could hardly be the cause of all that followed. Not all that followed, some of it perhaps, we conceded.
It was not one fish, replied the analysts reasonably; it could not be one single solitary sparkler in the sea that caused an event of such magnitude. But it was the beginning. Not the beginning of the end, but the beginning of the beginning …
The forest is close to the sea in this place. These worlds—that of the forest and of the sea—coexist comfortably within a short geographical distance. The forest was a convenient distance for one blue bird of distant seagull extraction, and it grew accustomed to exploring this new space where it found plenty to forage for in the pond.
We have already stated that the bird belonged to the world of day but with that one fish, had started to find its alimentary niche in the between time when the Sun wanes but before the Dark One completely reigns. The bird was a stickler for things that worked, and it had found that hunting at twilight gave it a competitive advantage over its brethren. Good for the bird! we applaud.
In any event, the little bird took its newfound advantage to the world of the forest and started to hunt and forage in the twilight hour. Now remember that these are two different worlds that the little bird had started to inhabit, and when doing so, even the most careful and assiduous traveller is apt to make a mistake, a misstep, a miscalculation …
We will leave the narration of the next part of this tale to our key eyewitness, our one and only Shadow:
Now the small bird flew around the pond, for water was the place she best knew
And she flew …
Longer and longer she flew, looking for a morsel or two
All through the day the little blue bird flew …
And as the light grew dim, brothers, what did the bird do?
She could not see as well as before, for her eyes belonged not to the world of the other, the one they call the Sun’s brother.
No, indeed, the little bird’s eyesight was not accustomed to the half light.
And as she flew, keeping her eyes trained on the surface of the pond for a morsel or two …
She caught sight of a flicker, a glimmer, a tiny flash of bluish light, similar to the sparkler she’d first caught in the water. With her eyesight none too keen, the little bird assumed it was the same thing and swooped low.
Reaching for the bluish glow …
… The blue-white flicker danced a complicated step in the waning light. It was quite a sight, said our keen eyewitness. A tiny star-like mite dancing to an unheard strain in the Night. This dancing light turned out to be, not a fish as the myopic bird surmised, but a winged denizen of the night, out to snare himself a mate, and perhaps a bite. As our keen eyewitness would say: these are things that happen in the Night. It is the way of things, and it is right.
This tiny sparkling dancer has been called a firefly by those who do not inhabit the world of the forest. But in the forest they are known as star dancers. Names can be confusing, especially when they refer to the same thing.
In any event our blue bird turned out to be a philosopher in this instance, and when it had gulped down the unsuspecting mote, it might have blinked a few times on account of the unfamiliar flavor but went ahead, undeterred, on her route.
And the little bird decided that, since this sparkler in the night was easier by far to catch than the little fishies, she would do best to stick to the pond rather than the sea. Besides, the wind tended to be less wicked on account of the trees.
This went on day after day, and many moons waxed and waned as the residents of the forest watched the little bird’s progress …
And all the while, the little bird lived amidst the flowering trees, all through summer’s greenery and stayed on in the forest as the air got colder.
In time, it is said, the blue bird found a mate, who had found his way from the beach in the same way as the first bird. This, too, is the way of things: it only takes one to make a path.
My kin, this is the way of things. This is how it all begins.
Over time, the birds grew in number, now living under the shade of trees instead of flying across the sea.
And like the first blue bird, they foraged for winged creatures instead of sparklers of the sea …
And one day, one small bird, descendant of the original blue bird, picked up the fallen fruit of a tree …
As the little bird ate the fruit, the seed of the tree was transformed by its alimentary canal, report our researchers. Our analysts confirmed that this is a reasonable, and moreover probable explanation for the events that unfolded in the thereafter. Our analysts remind us that the blue bird and its descendants had grown accustomed to consuming the star dancers in the forest as part of their regular diet. To put it succinctly: they ate insects that glowed with an inner light. These birds ate light.
And so, when this unassuming descendant of the original blue bird ate the seed of a tree … What tree was it, you ask? After careful research our analysts have placed it in the same family as one solid, stocky character with large, flat, dark green leaves and a soft sweet fruit with a velvety purplish brown skin—known by certain non-forest dwellers as a fig. Names can be confusing, as we established, and in the forest this tree is known as much for its girth and its shade as for its fruit. By those who shelter beneath the expansive welcome of its leaves or nibble upon its honey-sweet fruit, it is known as the sweet shelterer.
Can you guess what came to be? Of the seed of the tree that the bird that ate light swallowed?
luminescent
blue white bright light
blue white sparkling glittering star-like
bejeweled diamond bright in
darkest Night blackest
sky
branches black and bright with star-like glittering
flickering marble-like
sweet shelter shelter bright in darkest Night
velvet black
under moonlight sit under sky-dark leaves
studded with starlight
Come, sit
Under me
I am
LightTree
We are many
We are One
We provide shelter under the Sun
But when the day is done
We glitter like stars under the Dark One
And we are seen
By Everyone
Who can say
We are None?
That, at least, is the account of our eyewitnesses, including none other than our star and one and only Shadow who happened to inhabit the very pond next to which this remarkable (might we say miraculous?) event occurred, and we do have it on the best authority (our analysts) that this is the most probable explanation for the birth of the first Light Tree. THE FIRST LIGHT TREE!
Shadow also related that it, too, occasionally found shelter from the Sun under the dark, velvety leaves of the first Light Tree. Our Sun is a good sort in many ways, but there are times when she—quite unintentionally—is apt to get ahead of herself in the heat and brightness departments. She can get just a tad overzealous; a bit of a workaholic, say some of our analysts (we know they mean it in the best possible way), who does not always know when enough is enough … and that is exactly when large, dark, velvety leaves provide the most welcome relief. Until the Sun comes to her senses, of course, and either gives way to her brother or at least pulls some cloudy curtains to cover up some of her blasting brightness! What a sizzler!
And the fruit of the Light Tree? The original Light Tree, that is … We wonder how different it might have tasted from the kind one gets nowadays, which has such a distinctive flavor, and of course, the aroma, well, can only be said to smell of light! Our researchers, as always, seek to enlighten us on this point, but it has proved elusive thus far. Our analysts, on the other hand, who have spent countless days poring over what data the researchers have been able to glean, suggest—they stress there is no certainty—that the fruit is likely to have been lighter in texture and translucent, illuminated like a beacon by the cold bluish light of the seed of the lightberry. As everyone knows, the flesh of the lightberry nowadays—a most distant incarnation of the original—is dense and dark, almost black, unwilling to let the light of the seed shine through, and the only time that the Light Tree is able to appear in full lightful splendor is during the awakening season when it flowers. Oh, the flower of the Light Tree! That transcendent translucence shining like liquid stars decked out in glorious hues of pink, purple, and blue. What a sight to behold in the Night!
Yes, yes, I hear you say, we all know the beauty of the flower of the Light Tree, but do get on with the story.
And who better to recount the next chapter than our star, the inimitable, the one and only Shadow, our key eyewitness:
And the birds flew
until they grew tired and rested upon
the bough of the tree …
and flew
until they became hungry and nibbled
upon the berry of a tree
that ate light …
and still they flew
Through the air the birds flew
Beating their wings, gently at times,
gliding, fluttering at times
Upon the blue canvas of the sky
They flew.
And the Sun shone
all day long
Upon the blue canvas of the sky through
which
the birds flew
Did the birds fly at night too?
Yes, so they did. They flew all along the
black mantle that the Dark One
had flung across the sky
In darkness they flew …
Even when the dark was complete, my kin
When the sky was blacker than his dark eyes
Blacker even than the starling’s wing …
How? You are right to ask. How could these birds, relatives (distant) of a certain blue bird with uncertain eyesight, manage to fly through the night sky without encountering some serious mishap?
They were aided by the Light Tree. Guided is a better word, perhaps. They were guided by the Light Tree, let us say. We saw how the light of a sparkling fish (inadvertently) guided the little blue bird to a new life in the forest, and then it was the bird who in turn helped guide the birth of the Light Tree, so the guidance appears to have come full circle as a steady diet of the berries of the Light Tree transformed those distant descendants of the original blue bird into something altogether different … I could tell you, but I would not do it justice. For the end of our story let’s listen to the Song of the Light Tree:
In the So fly!
swelling sky, fly Are lit like stars, Bird
As high as you wish, Your wings, Bird
Bird High!
As long as you must, So you can fly!
Bird, fly… Even in the night, Bird
There is nothing to stop you There is light, Bird
Nothing can stop you, Fly!
Bird, fly! Higher, Bird
High!
This is the way of things. As it was then, so it is now …
(From the Book of Shadow)