Post by 0 on Jun 30, 2017 18:58:50 GMT
The bluegrass hills swung out across the wilds of the dreamtime, wind whistling through pocketed sides and picking its way across the rattling grasses in a jaunty, wordless tune that spilled with ease through the air.
A mesa jutted up above the grasslands below, trees swaying as their roots clung to a ledge of blue-green clay, and around it spiraled the music as it surfed the rising and falling of the air currents.
Waterfalls spilled out between the trees, violet rivers leading off from a frozen lake in the middle of the warm forest.
In a sharply slanted angle, the sky seemed split in two between dark blue and a pale lavender, clouds glowing from several angles by the golden light of a distant floating cheese wheel, and the bloody, fiery glow of a setting sun which remained unseen behind the firmament.
Near the frozen lake, part of the forest had been cleared away to make way for a grotto, its stone walls carved into intricate designs that might have been impressive, if anyone could have managed to make them out.
While daylight sang on, something like a shadow seemed to enshroud the cave, leaving the sky black and star-spattered the closer one drew to it.
Paper lanterns hung from the edges, doors, windows, and abstract statues that held tight to its roof, their glow met in full by the artificial night time.
A massive bonfire sat hissing in the darkness just outside the cave's mouth, flames licking the grass with ashy burns, and occasionally snatching its own meal from the tables that had been set up around it.
Folks of all sorts gathered around the grotto, eating, drinking, dancing, talking, fighting, competing, playing games or instruments, wandering, and watching.
Many of the more rowdy folks remained outside, while inside there was a natural quietness, a muffled wall of air that refused to let all the noise of the party-goers reach in and disturb the cavern.
A man shot bottles off the back of a horse with his rapid-fire pistol, a dog's head flipped around in the trees behind the grotto.
A mouse danced expertly on the smoke and sparks that rose from the bonfire, while inside the cave a small menagerie of young'uns sat around a smaller fire, making s'mores and trying to scare each other with ghost stories and shadow puppets.
Someone with a notepad casually made the rounds, busy sketching and writing down all that he saw, carefully examining each and every detail that he could; he walked around the grotto's large entrance cave, observing the carvings and depictions within, before heading off into a tunnel beyond, disappearing into the darkness that dwelt deeper underground.
Beyond the grotto a large group of aeroplanes, beasts, electric sheep, extraterrestrials and flying saucers, ghosts, humans, prehistoric animals and plants, rowbits, sixth dimensionals, spirits, vending machines, and more were enjoying either exploring the land itself, playing hide-and-seek, cops-and-robbers, predator-and-prey, or dreams-and-nightmares, ice-fishing and ice-skating on the lake, or drinking from, fly-fishing, and swimming in the purple waters of the many rivers that wound their way across the mesa.
In the blink of an eye or as slow as time, as subtly or distracting as they so cared to, one visitor after another appeared, had their turn, and then took their leave.
A mesa jutted up above the grasslands below, trees swaying as their roots clung to a ledge of blue-green clay, and around it spiraled the music as it surfed the rising and falling of the air currents.
Waterfalls spilled out between the trees, violet rivers leading off from a frozen lake in the middle of the warm forest.
In a sharply slanted angle, the sky seemed split in two between dark blue and a pale lavender, clouds glowing from several angles by the golden light of a distant floating cheese wheel, and the bloody, fiery glow of a setting sun which remained unseen behind the firmament.
Near the frozen lake, part of the forest had been cleared away to make way for a grotto, its stone walls carved into intricate designs that might have been impressive, if anyone could have managed to make them out.
While daylight sang on, something like a shadow seemed to enshroud the cave, leaving the sky black and star-spattered the closer one drew to it.
Paper lanterns hung from the edges, doors, windows, and abstract statues that held tight to its roof, their glow met in full by the artificial night time.
A massive bonfire sat hissing in the darkness just outside the cave's mouth, flames licking the grass with ashy burns, and occasionally snatching its own meal from the tables that had been set up around it.
Folks of all sorts gathered around the grotto, eating, drinking, dancing, talking, fighting, competing, playing games or instruments, wandering, and watching.
Many of the more rowdy folks remained outside, while inside there was a natural quietness, a muffled wall of air that refused to let all the noise of the party-goers reach in and disturb the cavern.
A man shot bottles off the back of a horse with his rapid-fire pistol, a dog's head flipped around in the trees behind the grotto.
A mouse danced expertly on the smoke and sparks that rose from the bonfire, while inside the cave a small menagerie of young'uns sat around a smaller fire, making s'mores and trying to scare each other with ghost stories and shadow puppets.
Someone with a notepad casually made the rounds, busy sketching and writing down all that he saw, carefully examining each and every detail that he could; he walked around the grotto's large entrance cave, observing the carvings and depictions within, before heading off into a tunnel beyond, disappearing into the darkness that dwelt deeper underground.
Beyond the grotto a large group of aeroplanes, beasts, electric sheep, extraterrestrials and flying saucers, ghosts, humans, prehistoric animals and plants, rowbits, sixth dimensionals, spirits, vending machines, and more were enjoying either exploring the land itself, playing hide-and-seek, cops-and-robbers, predator-and-prey, or dreams-and-nightmares, ice-fishing and ice-skating on the lake, or drinking from, fly-fishing, and swimming in the purple waters of the many rivers that wound their way across the mesa.
In the blink of an eye or as slow as time, as subtly or distracting as they so cared to, one visitor after another appeared, had their turn, and then took their leave.