The rocks were warm. Sunned for hours, they soaked up the heat and stored it within their glowing hearts. It radiated softly through their porous skin. “It feels so pleasant”, I thought, as I run up, jumping from rock to rock, from shelf to shelf, hardly touching the surface in my light slippers. “Like an elf”, I thought. It felt so pleasant to climb lightly and recklessly, higher and higher, up and onward and away from the road, away from the valley, away from the cabins and the coking fires.
What looked like a wall broken into shelves, formed into steps by fallen boulders, climbing steadily upwards, turned out to be an entire world, a landscape of deep valleys and sharp peaks, of smooth-floored meadows overgrown by silvery grass, and forests of brush with their sharp, pointy branches and small shiny leaves. There were rocks as large as a head of a giant lying where they feel, with deep crevices left where they split on impact.
It was quiet there, alien, the human world was only a story and I felt uneasy. I begun to walk slowly, climb cautiously, choosing the gentlest slopes and surest assents. No more running and jumping recklessly. I did not belong there. One false step, and the mountain would shake me off with hardly a flicker of it’s rocky fingers.
[click to continue…]
It is a very easy thing to do, missing a dragon in the forest. If you look around with your usual eyes you might see a piece of root, a rotten log, a pile of rocks. But if you open your eyes as wide as they will go, and then a bit wider, you will see a dragon basking in the sun, stretching his wings to dry on the morning breeze, winding it’s tail protectively around a house or nursing young trees tenderly on it’s nose.
Dragons are easy to miss while the sun shines on the forest. The warm light makes them hot and drowsy, they lie comfortably still and will not stir a paw. But when the sun sets, when the moon raises from it’s bed behind the mountain, so do dragons raise. They shake their heads, stretch their wings, unwind their tails and set the young trees carefully aside. Then they jump up, as high as only a dragon can jump, and fly into the moonlit sky.
[click to continue…]
It is a very easy thing to do, missing a dragon in the forest. If you look around with your usual eyes you might see a piece of root, a rotten log, a pile of rocks. But if you open your eyes as wide as they will go, and then a bit wider, you will see a dragon basking in the sun, stretching his wings to dry on the morning breeze, winding it’s tail protectively around a house or nursing young trees tenderly on it’s nose.
Dragons are easy to miss while the sun shines on the forest. The warm light makes them hot and drowsy, they lie comfortably still and will not stir a paw. But when the sun sets, when the moon raises from it’s bed behind the mountain, so do dragons raise. They shake their heads, stretch their wings, unwind their tails and set the young trees carefully aside. Then they jump up, as high as only a dragon can jump, and fly into the moonlit sky. [click to continue…] 
