Weavers and Spinners

After all the fun, and exploring Rainbow Beach and its wonderful

diversions, it was time to visit the ladies again on Old Woman

island.  Faerie Wren and I flew, following the path of the Kerith

River, with all its fertility, seeing giant turtles in pairs, and

numerous other animals, swimming two by two along its flourishing

flow.   There was so much nourishment in the creative waters there,

and we knew this would bode well for our journey back to the island.

Faerie Wren reminded me not to forget to use the anchor to descend to

land, so I let it go, and it did the work of grounding us again.

Once on the island, we traded some stories with the people there,

and it seemed they already knew them, and of the merry goings

on at Rainbow Beach.  The Old Woman nodded at us, this time sunning

herself outside the hut, fanned by a huge palm leaf.  She seemed to

glow with contentment, and it was so.  She was a woman of few words,

but everything on the island worked to her silent serenity and wisdom,

and she did not need to say much at all.  It was like magic had blessed

the enchanted island.  We bought a red coral necklace, to support the

local crafts, as we had pledged not to harm the sea creatures when meeting

with the Triton.  It was lovely and would serve as a fitting gift for the

weaving and spinning women.  The Old Woman said we would know

them by the rainbows which sat always above their industrious caves.

When we arrived at their sanctuary, it was a lush and green valley,

catacombed with different rooms etched into the cliff faces, decorated

with exotic flowers that glowed like jewels in the sun.  And then we saw

the rainbows, suspended in the blue sky, no rain to bring them, but it

showed the air had a quality full of moisture, good to breathe, and good

for creativity, it was said to us by the guides. 

“Now you are seeing the future,” they said, before leaving us in the valley,

gazing in awe at the colours, and the many caves.

“How do we know which one is ours?” said Faerie Wren, stretching out his tiny

wings in a kind of shrug.

“Perhaps we need to use our senses, our intuition…” I said.

“Isn’t that your department?” he replied, looking as if he might grin, but then thinking better of it.

“A wise wren like you ought to know he has built in intuition, he just has to use it.”

“Okay, I know what you mean…”

Faerie Wren hopped on my shoulder and we closed our eyes and thought

of a cave.  Then, when we opened them, we looked at exactly the same one. 

The unicorn in Enchanteur’s bag seemed to jump and wriggle around,

confirming its knowing.

We had a climb up the rocky steps, through shaggy, hanging flowers,

wet with dew and shining with their jewel like colours. 

Even though we climbed to a very high altitude,

we could breathe normally, and were amazed.  At the entrance

of the cave, we saw the weaving and spinning women,

working on our futures,

and they allowed us to sit down. 

They were very pleased with our gift, and loved the colour particularly. 

It was cool inside the cave, but not damp.  And in

all places, the rainbow colours seemed to reflect, on the cave walls

in glints of gemstones and mica. 

The ladies continued their work, and we were allowed

to watch.  It was like seeing a film, very strange at first, and hardly real,

but it was only just the beginning…

(Thanks You Tube, and Lisa from GMS for the healing clip.)

(Copyright Imogen Crest 2008.)