Something Borrowed; Something Blue

And now Sara challenges us to look outside a window, and to descibe what you see using metaphors. The weather she says is particularly good for metaphorical musings.

It is just before seven on a normal week day morning. I am up, dressed, and ready to go. I give my husband a quick peck on the cheek, fetch my keys and leave the cottage.

The sky is a brilliant blue, yarn-dyed taffeta. It has a wonderful crispness. The fabric is not entirely flat, it has a gentle ripple effect yet; the colour is constant. A flock of doves dart across the blue, it looks like a string of pearls against the taffeta sky. The air is damp with dew.

I take my first tentative step. It is mid autumn and golden confetti is strewn casually underfoot, so I assume great care as I walk towards the car. I slide into the driver’s seat, turn on the ignition and glance at the dew drop sequins glistening on the windscreen. They gently sparkle in the early morning sunshine, as the wipers try, unsuccessfully, to flick them away.

Suddenly the country church bells peal, welcoming a congregation (that isn’t there) to God’s morning. I jump as I always do. It is seven o’clock of course!

I take a momentary look at the imposing architecture, beyond the church wall. Three rooks that had been perching in an old oak tree scream their disgust at the disturbance and flap around before settling back on their branch. I am glad they calm down quickly, they are a blot on my landscape this morning.

For some reason the continuing toll seems so much more celebratory today. Up until now, there has been a marriage between sound and vision and I want that to continue.

I thrust the gears into first and look to my right. A golden band of sunlight dances in the wing mirror, which reflects back a diamond solitaire. I check the rear view; there is nothing so I move off. As I reach the end of the road, I indicate left past the Scott Arms and turn to take the mile long drive from Kingston into Corfe.

It is then that I take my first proper look at the world this morning through the windscreen of my car, and gasp. There is the castle, a tiara sitting on top of a discarded sea-mist veil. Corfe is nowhere to be seen; just the veil and the tiara. So still; so silent; so utterly serene.

4.9

Ziggy (Starburst)

In this exercise Sara asks us to look up at the night sky for two minutes. Check out a star formation and write a legend for that cluster. This is mine:

Ziggy was the faithful servant of Pasch, an Egyptian Cat goddess and protector of children and all cats of course. Most often, Ziggy could be found curled up beneath the rich tapestry chair of Pasch, her beloved goddess, in the great hall.

Ziggy was a beautiful cat in her own right. She had vibrant tortoise-shell markings that were not dissimilar to the male tabby. She had a big belly. It wobbled when she walked, but her perfect face and peaceful nature made her a must stop and pet for all Egyptian children on their way home from their schooling.

As it was, in Egypt, Ziggy often accompanied Pasch on royal hunting trips. Here, she would retrieve fish and fowl from the marshes and ward off snakes and rodents. One such late summer hunt, the Royals had flushed out some significant game. Ziggy was returning triumphant having picked up a large perch.

Her bright eyes spotted an asp within immediate striking distance of the youngest prince. Dropping the fish in a flash, Ziggy leapt between the asp as it lunged at the child. In that instant and courageous moment she bit off the asp’s head! But not before, its venom was expelled. It coursed through her small frame swiftly.

The hunting party scooped up the small prince and watched in horror as Ziggy gasped her last tormented breaths.

Later that night, the Royals shaved off their eyebrows in recognition of Ziggy’s sacrifice and their deepest grief. Ziggy’s beloved goddess, Pasch, took the shavings in her paw; and blew gently. Each shaving twinkled, as it touched the night’s sky and the infant stars replicated Ziggy’s form. They have sparkled ever since; watching intently over tiny children and other cherished cats.