In a valley shaded with rhododendrons, close to the snow line, where a stream of milky meltwater splashed and where doves and linnets flew among the immense pines, lay a cave, half-hidden by the crag above and the stiff heavy leaves that clustered below.
The woods were full of sound: the stream between the rocks, the wind among the needles of the pine branches, the chitter of insects and the cries of small arboreal mammals, as well as the birdsong; and from time to time a stronger gust of wind would make one of the branches of a cedar or a fir move against another and groan like a cello.
It was a place of brilliant sunlight, never undappled. Shafts of lemon-gold brilliance lanced down to the forest floor between bars and pools of brown-green shade; and the light was never still, it was never constant, because drifting mist would often float among the treetops, filtering all the sunlight to a pearly sheen and brushing every pine cone with moisture that glistened when the mist lifted. Sometimes the wetness in the clouds condensed into tiny drops half mist and half rain, which floated downward rather than fell, making a soft rustling patter among the millions of needles.
It was here in the cave, overlooking the valley, that the from of a naked girl could be seen putting a pot of water over a small dancing fire, the illumination from the fire in the sunlight gave her a faded shadow against the cliffwalls as she crouched over the fireplace in the mouth of the cave. The girl took two fingers and dipped them in the water and lead her hand to her forehead introvertly whispering some words. With that now minding it's own business of heating up the cold melt-water she turned to a meticulously folded stack of clothes and began the task putting them on. She was still glistening wet, with the sun catching droplets on her skin from a recent bath in the cold stream. That did not seem to matter as she equipped the stack of clothes slowly, making sure each fold of her worn and faded uniform sat as perfectly as she could make it on herself. It seemed to radiate a sort of principle or a certain kind of upbringing. One could even mistake it for pride or vanity, depending on the observer. But the fact was, that the clothes themselves were nothing to be proud it. holes had been mended and patched, and the munsell colour had been faded for some time. But the folds were neat, the stitching decent and it was clean. It was a strange little civilized girl in a unforgettably, beautiful, untamed valley.
There was a narrow path beside the stream, which led from a village--little more than a cluster of abandoned herdsmen's dwellings--at the foot of the valley to a half-ruined shrine near the glacier at its head, a place where faded silken flags of hard to gauge origin streamed out in the perpetual winds from the high mountains, and offerings of clumsily made, and not very interesting looking barley cakes and dried tea were placed by the shrine, properly by the girl. An odd effect of the light, the ice, and the
vapor enveloped the head of the valley in perpetual rainbows.
The cave lay some way above the overgrown wild path. Many years before, a holy man had lived there, meditating and fasting and praying, and the place had once been venerated for the sake of his memory. It was thirty feet or so
deep, with a dry floor: an ideal den for a bear or a wolf, but the only creatures living in it for years had been birds and bats.
But the form that was crouching inside the entrance, now fully clothed her brown eyes watching this way and that, her sharp ears, alert, was neither bird nor bat. The sunlight lay heavy and rich on her lustrous black hair, and her small hands were turning a small chipped clay cup, deep in thought as she waited. Seems she remembered something and disappeared into the cave with the pan of water for a time...
Later when the sun was in the middle of the sky, just beyond the point where the sunlight reached, Suzume was again heating some water in a small pan over the small fire. This time she poured it into a broken clay teapot, the nose was half its normal length with sharp broken teeth instead. she stood up, went inside and dragged a chair out on the mouth of the cave with patient movements. Suzume made sure it stood fast on the uneven rock before standing up on it, stood on her toes and reached for some dried leafs in a small woollen net pouch. Similar pouches hung along the line that stretched from one side of the cave opening to the other. She took it down and pulled out some of the leaves from the net, which looked more like selected local weeds rather than proper tea leaves. The girl threw a handful into the pot and began binding a small shredded piece of cloth around what remained of the tea pots snout, presumably to filter out the leaves when poured.. She found a matching chipped claycup and intended to pour it down into the cup, though lost in thought as she were during all this she burned herself slightly on the hot clay. She shook her hand a bit, before looking at the gloves she had neglected to equip when dressing herself earlier, with a dry understanding smile.. She finally got herself a cup of tea and sat herself out on the ledge looking over the valley. With the tea in her hands and only a single sip of tea downed. She gazed with a tiny smile out over the valley.
The woods were full of sound: the stream between the rocks, the wind among the needles of the pine branches, the chitter of insects and the cries of small arboreal mammals, as well as the birdsong; and from time to time a stronger gust of wind would make one of the branches of a cedar or a fir move against another and groan like a cello.
It was a place of brilliant sunlight, never undappled. Shafts of lemon-gold brilliance lanced down to the forest floor between bars and pools of brown-green shade; and the light was never still, it was never constant, because drifting mist would often float among the treetops, filtering all the sunlight to a pearly sheen and brushing every pine cone with moisture that glistened when the mist lifted. Sometimes the wetness in the clouds condensed into tiny drops half mist and half rain, which floated downward rather than fell, making a soft rustling patter among the millions of needles.
It was here in the cave, overlooking the valley, that the from of a naked girl could be seen putting a pot of water over a small dancing fire, the illumination from the fire in the sunlight gave her a faded shadow against the cliffwalls as she crouched over the fireplace in the mouth of the cave. The girl took two fingers and dipped them in the water and lead her hand to her forehead introvertly whispering some words. With that now minding it's own business of heating up the cold melt-water she turned to a meticulously folded stack of clothes and began the task putting them on. She was still glistening wet, with the sun catching droplets on her skin from a recent bath in the cold stream. That did not seem to matter as she equipped the stack of clothes slowly, making sure each fold of her worn and faded uniform sat as perfectly as she could make it on herself. It seemed to radiate a sort of principle or a certain kind of upbringing. One could even mistake it for pride or vanity, depending on the observer. But the fact was, that the clothes themselves were nothing to be proud it. holes had been mended and patched, and the munsell colour had been faded for some time. But the folds were neat, the stitching decent and it was clean. It was a strange little civilized girl in a unforgettably, beautiful, untamed valley.
There was a narrow path beside the stream, which led from a village--little more than a cluster of abandoned herdsmen's dwellings--at the foot of the valley to a half-ruined shrine near the glacier at its head, a place where faded silken flags of hard to gauge origin streamed out in the perpetual winds from the high mountains, and offerings of clumsily made, and not very interesting looking barley cakes and dried tea were placed by the shrine, properly by the girl. An odd effect of the light, the ice, and the
vapor enveloped the head of the valley in perpetual rainbows.
The cave lay some way above the overgrown wild path. Many years before, a holy man had lived there, meditating and fasting and praying, and the place had once been venerated for the sake of his memory. It was thirty feet or so
deep, with a dry floor: an ideal den for a bear or a wolf, but the only creatures living in it for years had been birds and bats.
But the form that was crouching inside the entrance, now fully clothed her brown eyes watching this way and that, her sharp ears, alert, was neither bird nor bat. The sunlight lay heavy and rich on her lustrous black hair, and her small hands were turning a small chipped clay cup, deep in thought as she waited. Seems she remembered something and disappeared into the cave with the pan of water for a time...
Later when the sun was in the middle of the sky, just beyond the point where the sunlight reached, Suzume was again heating some water in a small pan over the small fire. This time she poured it into a broken clay teapot, the nose was half its normal length with sharp broken teeth instead. she stood up, went inside and dragged a chair out on the mouth of the cave with patient movements. Suzume made sure it stood fast on the uneven rock before standing up on it, stood on her toes and reached for some dried leafs in a small woollen net pouch. Similar pouches hung along the line that stretched from one side of the cave opening to the other. She took it down and pulled out some of the leaves from the net, which looked more like selected local weeds rather than proper tea leaves. The girl threw a handful into the pot and began binding a small shredded piece of cloth around what remained of the tea pots snout, presumably to filter out the leaves when poured.. She found a matching chipped claycup and intended to pour it down into the cup, though lost in thought as she were during all this she burned herself slightly on the hot clay. She shook her hand a bit, before looking at the gloves she had neglected to equip when dressing herself earlier, with a dry understanding smile.. She finally got herself a cup of tea and sat herself out on the ledge looking over the valley. With the tea in her hands and only a single sip of tea downed. She gazed with a tiny smile out over the valley.
