esson 24: The Green Kight

itting in the fortress of Spear Seven with three faeries of light (and mischief) residing in my heart, I see a giant man approaching. A wind blows up with his coming. He strides forward, dressed in a suit of leaves and carring a huge, ornately-decorated axe. I take up the spear and stand in the entrance to the fortress, watching him approach.

   As I'm looking up (and up and up) at him and his very large axe, I feel something touch my leg, and my whole perspective changes. I see his strategy: to draw attention above and attack from below! Fancy carvings are nice, but it only took a gentle touch from the bottom of the staff to conquer me.

   I'm transformed into a small and rather defenseless wren, and in a pique I fly up to his shoulder and pluck one of his hairs with my beak to show him my annoyance. Without a word, he strides away, and takes me along for the ride. We approach a house and, as we enter, I see that it is *my* house! Even though its a beautiful sunny day, all the shutters are closed, making it dark. I fly off of his shoulder onto the axe head, then flit around to all the windows.

   He understands, and goes around smashing the shutters open with his axe. Light, air, and even music [acoustic guitar from upstairs] come flooding in. I fly out of a window and around the house and fly back in again. What a changed atmosphere is here now! And his face seems changed as well. What appeared as a menacing grimace now looks like a generous smile. I return to his shoulder and give him a 'peck' on the cheek. As he starts off on his return to the Great White North¹, I fly back to the fortress and, upon landing, return to human form.

   The spear still stands in the doorway, and lying across the threshold I find a smaller, short-handled replica of the Green Knight's axe. Tied around the handle, just below the head, is a single red hair.

1) The HQ book associated the Green Knight with the winter solstice. Since I associate winter with north, it seemed natural that when he left, he would go back north (kinda like Santa Claus). But what I just realized when typing this up is that, at the winter solstice, the sun really does begin its return journey north. Hmm. Another thing that didn't occur to me until I typed it is that, as part of my winter solstice ritual, I close all my shutters first, and when the ritual is over (or the next morning), I throw them open again. It's something that started as a privacy measure, but I quickly realized and utilized the symbolic significance. I think what this is telling me is that now -- TODAY even -- IS that time I dream about at winter solstice. Sunny days are NOW! And in Switzerland, that may mean only a week or two, so better enjoy it while I can, and be *thankful* and get all the joy I can out of it. {back}