Friday, February 02, 2007

The large cat - the Tigress - lay upon the bank, and
watched them through the grasses by the side of
the river.

The Wind blew next to her.  "Ah," said the Wind,
"You are watching the two people-ones?"

"It is bizarre!" replied the Tigress.  "they took off
their flat fur!"

[The tigers have few words for the varied clothing
of the people.  "Flat fur" is used to describe all the
clothing that people wear.]

"Well, ah... yes." replied the Wind.

"And, strange indeed," continued the Tigress,
"They bathe each other with paws!"

"Did you think they would lick each other clean?"
replied the Wind with a laugh.

"No, of course not." whispered the Tigress.  "It is
obvious that their tongues are far too small."

"Oh, of course." replied the Wind.  "How silly of
me."  And the Wind was silent, though almost ready
to burst out laughing.

The golden-eyes of the Tigress watched the two
people-ones, one a man and the other a women,
embrace and kiss while sitting in the river.

"Ah...." whispered the Tigress, "they are

"Yes, Tigress." replied the Wind.  "These two
people-ones have been bound-mates for quite
some time."

The Tigress then watched the woman stand, and
watched her turn in front of her lover.  The woman
turned slowly, and the eyes of the man seemed to
glow and his face beam with the light of wide smile.

"His eyes?" questioned the Tigress.

"Oh," replied the Wind, "he finds the woman

"And his face?"

"Oh," replied the Wind, "Perhaps, ... ah... well, he
finds her very attractive."

"Ah... " replied the Tigress.

And then, the Tigress was silent for a time.

And after long moments, the Tigress stood and
walked away from the river.

The Wind blew in next to her.

"Tigress," said the Wind, "What disturbs you?"

"It has been," replied the Tigress while still walking,
"A very long time since my own bound-mate found
me attractive."


Friday, February 23, 2007

"Tigress," said the Wind, "will you come with me

"Of course." replied the Tigress, rising from her
sleep among the golden bamboo leaves that she
had trampled down for her bed.

The Wind blew gently, and then parted the green
ferns of the jungle floor before her, and the Tigress

In due time, the Tigress sniffed the air.  "River

"Indeed, Tigress." replied the Wind.

"And rotting-green?" said the Tigress more than
she asked, for she could smell an usual amount of
rotting vegetation.

"Quite a bit so." replied the Wind.

And then, the Wind parted the last of the
vegetation, and gray-brown mud lay flat before the

"Ah," said the Tigress, "This is where the river
stretched out her claws."  

"True." replied the Wind.

[For to the Tigers, the flooding of a river is as if the
river were clawing out to reach more territory.]

"But, Tigress," said the Wind, "I want you to watch
the people-one on the far side of the river."

And there, on the far side of the river, a man
moved in the mud.  His feet made a sucking sound
with every step.  His hands touched one half-buried
plant - his head then shook, and he moved to the
next mud-covered plant.

"Is he angry at the claws of the river?" asked the

"Yes, he is." replied the Wind.  "For those plants
were part of his 'garden' - that is, a small piece of
jungle of the plants he loves to eat."

"Oh yes!" said the Tigress.  "You did tell me about
the people-ones and their 'gar-dens' before."

The Tigress and the Wind watched the man move,
stumbling heavy step by step, to yet another plant
half-covered in mud.  The man shook his head
again.  And then, the man hung down his head, and
with feet sucking with each step, moved away from
the river, and then to dry land, and then vanished
into the jungle.

"He is very sad, isn't he?" said the Tigress.

"Yes, he is very sad." replied the Wind.  "Very sad
indeed, for he had many bushes, and now, only one
is alive.  All the others are perhaps dead."

Both the Wind and the Tigress were silent for a
moment as the sheen of the sun danced flat along
the still-wet mud.

"Tigress," continued the Wind, "The people-ones
often need their gardens.  The gardens feed them.  
Do you understand?"

"Food is food." said the Tigress, very unimpressed
by the words of the Wind.

"Tigress," continued the Wind, "That man we
watched must now make a choice:  plant a new
garden elsewhere, or hold on to this garden and
attempt to replant some bushes, or hold on to this
garden and enjoy only the one bush that is alive."

"Food is food." replied the Tigress.  And then, she
thought for a moment.  

"But the claws of the river?" said the Tigress, "her
claws will come again.  To replant here would be

"The people-ones are often foolish." replied the

"To hope in one bush will make the people-one too
hungry!" said the Tigress.

"Some of the people-ones can live with great
hunger; others cannot." replied the Wind.

"A new garden elsewhere may also be clawed by
the river!" said the Tigress.

"All true," replied the Wind.  "All true."

Then, the Wind continued, "The decision will be
shown in time, when he returns, and burns his gods
in the fire."

"The fire?" asked the Tigress, instinctively backing

"Yes, Tigress," said the Wind, "this people-one has
a wooden god for every bush, and one god for the
entire garden.  He must decide which gods to burn
in the fire.  The ones that he burns, he will  no
longer pursue."

"Then you should curse the river's claws!" spit out
the Tigress.  "Fire is bad!"

"No, Tigress," said the Wind.  "Fire is not always
bad.  Sometimes, the people-ones must change
their gods - that is, their expectations.  You do not
understand, but the gods must be challenged and
burned, or the people-ones will not grow in their

"Still," said the Tigress, "all this Fire that is to come,
will be because of the river's claws!  You should
curse the river's claws!"

"Tigress," replied the Wind, "I am the one that
gave the river her claws."


(c) Copyright Caryn LeMur 2007
(C) Copyright 2007 Caryn LeMur
The Wind And The Tigress

February, 2007