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Seeds and Stones

Chapter Text

Dandelion pushed her head out of the soil. She'd been waiting until the last minute to make sure that nothing happened to her beautiful golden crown.

"Hello," said Waylands Smithy, who was nothing if not polite. "Welcome to the field." His great stones crouched solidly on and of the earth. Inside his old rock, the drowsy air was cool even on that summer's day.

"Oh, you're beautiful," said Dandelion.

The wind blew through the field. Dandelion waved at Waylands Smithy.

Waylands Smithy sat solidly in the field. Surrounded by blades of grass. Lichen sunned itself on Waylands Smith's stones. He guarded the field. He watched the wheel of the world. The spin of seasons.

In her time, Dandelion's golden crown turned white and scattered. She floated all around Wayland Smithy. Aloft on the breeze.

Dandelions pushed up their heads out of the soil.

"Hello," said Waylands Smithy, who was nothing if not polite. "Welcome to the field."

"Oh, you're beautiful," said Dandelions.

Now at this moment, a Dandelion tragedy occurred.

A ploughman walked up with a horse. He laid a coin or two at Waylands Smithy's entrance. He said, "Your pardon, but my Bessie's lost her shoe. If you could see to it, I'd be much obliged."

He loosely tied the horse near Waylands Smithy entrance.

Waylands Smithy said to Bessie, "You're welcome here in the field, but I'm sorry to say that the Smith hasn't been in for some years."

"I tried telling my Johnny that, but he would want to come to the smith. S'good luck," said Bessie, who ate a Dandelion's crown.

"It is good luck," said Waylands Smithy.

Bessie ate many Dandelion's crowns.

"This," said one of the farther Dandelions, "Is why we keep the crown below ground until it's time."

The Dandelions nodded at each other.

One Dandelion crown grown particularly white puffed and scattered lofted up on the breeze. One seed flew up and away far above the horse. She whispered, "But who will know if Bessie gets her shoe."

"I will remember," said Waylands Smithy, "Fair journeys."

Dandelion seed floated high and up. She landed in a field. She decided it would be a good place to put down roots. It wasn't settling to settle down.

"I could not agree more," said Avebury. "Not one additional word of agreement could I add to such a splendid sentiment." She stood in a firm circle in the field. She pointed up.

Dandelion pushed her head out of the soil. She'd been waiting until the last minute to make sure that nothing happened to her beautiful golden crown.

 "Oh," she said, "You're lovely."

"Yes, but I prefer to focus on my scientific work," said Avebury. "Watch and see."

The sun slid over the horizon. The air grew frosty. High above in that black sky, the white wheel of stars turned. Avebury said, "I have been watching that same sky for such a long time. I record every movement, every turn, deep inside my stones."

"The stars are so bright," shivered the Dandelion.

"Beautiful and bright, my young friend. They are the splendid object of a lifetime of joyous observation."

Dandelion waved her head. Now a Dandelion tragedy occurred.

The air grew frosty. It was not a good season for Dandelions. Also, cloudy. "How will I grow new flowers now."

"Tis not the season for it my young friend. Not the season." Rain ran slick down the straight tones of Avebury. She stood up in the rain and let it slide into the grass. "I record every turn of every season." The clouds blew in more rain. "A splendid work for a splendid life well lived."

Dandelion was too tired to listen. She waved her last scattered head and slept through the cold while Avebury kept watch by day and by night.

The wheel of stars turned.

Dandelion pushed her head out of the soil. She'd been waiting until the last minute to make sure that nothing happened to her beautiful golden crown.

 She saw Avebury. "Oh, you're lovely."

"A lovely sentiment from an industrious young flower," said Avebury.

Now in her time, Dandelion's crown grew white and scattered. The breeze that blew that day was boisterous. A wild wind that scattered Dandelions seeds in all directions. "Goodbye," called a Dandelion seed.

"Safe journey under sun and stars," said Avebury.

The Dandelion seed flew on the wind. She flew over handsome hills and sleepy towns. She flew so very far. Farther she was certain than any Dandelion seed had ever flown. She and the many seeds floating on that boisterous breeze. She came to earth on a hill. She put down roots as fast as she could. She was done with her wandering days.

Dandelion pushed her head out of the soil. She'd been waiting until the last minute to make sure that nothing happened to her beautiful golden crown.

 She looked at the giant carved into the chalky side of the hill. "Oh," she said, "You have a very big,"

"Oi, yeah, I got a big club?" said the Giant of Cerne Abbas.

"No, meant that you um…" Dandelion waved her golden crown in the direction of the Giant's middle, "Your fertility bit is exposed." She bobbed her golden crown and giggled as a bee made a sweet visit.

The Giant of Cerne Abbas did not shrink. No he did not. Even though it was quite a cold day. "Oi, yeah, that's what you call political satire is what that is," said the Giant of Cerne Abbas. "As to whether that is satire of the Saxon, Celtic or Latin kind," The Giant of Cerne Abbas held up his club. "I will not say. It could be a comment that old King Aelfric. Could be somethin' to do with Lugh or Hercules. I ain't sayin', but I will share that my erection and my club are both bent in what you might call a…uh… satirical direction."

"Oh," said Dandelion, who was it must be admitted not very well versed in satire.

In her time, her golden crown grew white and scattered. She scattered all around the Giant of Cerne Abbas. Through many a season's cold sleep too. But one day, there was a wilding wind.

A Dandelion seed lofted up on that boisterous breeze. She went on a wandering way over hills and out into the westerly moors. She settled on a lonely slope. Put down roots and made a home.

Dandelion pushed her head out of the soil. She'd been waiting until the last minute to make sure that nothing happened to her beautiful golden crown.

Grey Wethers Stone Circle sitting not much taller than Dandelion, and in some cases stones quite fallen over, said, "Begging your pardon, but you seem as to be a well travelled flower, carried about on wilding winds and such. On your travels, you wouldn't have happened to see some of my stones for you see some've been carried off and I do worry."

"I'm sorry, but I don't think so," said Dandelion.

"No worries, no worries, but as I tell myself, if I don't ask then I can't know," said Grey Wethers Stone Circle.

In her time, Dandelion's golden crown grew white and scattered. She scattered about the field and beyond to stone wall. There in the wall was a stone of Grey Wethers circle. Dandelion was able to report back on the next breeze.

"Well, that is a relief. Such a relief." Grey Wethers Stone Circle perched lightly in the field.

Just then a Dandelion tragedy occurred. Sheep.

Many sheep.

They grazed between the stones. They grazed around the circle.

A tragedy and a triumph for Dandelion kind. A seed clung to some wool all the way to the farmer's house.

Dandelion pushed her head out of the soil. She'd been waiting until the last minute to make sure that nothing happened to her beautiful golden crown.

She saw the farmer's farmhouse and it must be admitted several of Grey Wether's stones, but whistling wind couldn't carry back word and as a bee made an amorous visit to Dandelion's golden crown, it must be admitted that she forgot.

Still blew the wind. In time, a gentle gust lofted a Dandelion seed high into the air. Higher than any Dandelion seed had ever gone.

She came to land in a field. She put down roots as fast as she could.

Dandelion pushed her head out of the soil. She'd been waiting until the last minute to make sure that nothing happened to her beautiful golden crown.

"Hello," said Waylands Smithy, who was nothing if not polite. "Welcome to the field." His great stones crouched solidly on and of the earth. "If you were wondering, Bessie's shoe was shod."

"Thank you," said Dandelion, although she couldn't have said why.

In her time, Dandelion's golden crown grew white. She was almost ready to scatter when a woman walked up to Waylands Smithy. She put a coin in a narrow space between the heavy stones.

"Thank you," said Wayland Smithy. "We'll be donating that to charity."

The woman laughed. She laid down next to Dandelion and took a picture of her with Waylands Smithy in the background. The woman said, "I love the contrast of these stones and transience."

"A surprisingly popular choice since the invention of photography," said Waylands Smithy.

Then a sort of Dandelion triumph occurred. The woman plucked Dandelion's well whitened crown and blew. The seeds scattered.

Crouching in the field, Waylands Smithy watched the Dandelion seeds float away. "Fair journeys."

Waylands Smithy sat solidly in the field. Surrounded by blades of grass. He guarded the field. He watched the wheel of the world.

The seasons spun by and the wheel of star turned. Waylands Smithy watched.