The Annual Twirdle Dirdle
Introduction
This story is very close to my heart. It is about the courage to be yourself, which is especially important in these times. By being ourselves, we bring our light into the world and that encourages others to do the same. It creates a ripple effect of each and every one of us igniting our inner flame, following our dreams, and creating a much more harmonious and peaceful world for all of us (including animals, plants and all beings).
In this story, you will meet the Foddles—a fae folk that shares the Dreamweaver’s Grove with the Auané and many others.
The Foddles and Auané both inhabit the Old Oak but their lives couldn't be more different. While the cautious Foddles live in cosy caves beneath the roots, the adventurous Auané sleep in hammocks in the branches. They both keep to themselves until one brave Foddle girl dares to follow her dream.
Below, you can read the first chapter of “The Annual Twirdle Dirdle”. If it piques your curiosity, I invite you to sign up with your email to “Whispers of the Grove”. It’s where I share new stories of the Dreamweaver’s Grove, seasonal musings and poems once or twice a moon cycle. I will send you the mini e-book “The Annual Twirdle Dirdle” for you to read offline anywhere you like.
You can also listen to the audio version of the story on YouTube.
And if you want to crochet Mika the Mouse, you can follow along with me in my video tutorial on my crochet channel. When I designed the pattern years ago, the characters Mika and Ira had already made themselves known to me.
Now, I invite you to take a deep breath and step beyond the veil into the Dreamweaver’s Grove.
Chapter 1
Ira lay in the middle of the clearing, above her only blue. The edges of the tree crowns formed the perfect frame for the performance she was watching. A bird soared far above, drawing circles in the sky, barely beating its wings.
“Kee-yaaa.” Ira heard its call even though it was so far up. If she could glide across the sky, seeing the whole forest from above, she’d call even louder. This time of year, it must be a spectacle of colours.
The Old Oak's leaves had turned amber, the Luminous Birch wore a costume of yellow, and the Bold Beeches painted the forest floor burnt orange. The Spirited Spruce at the other side of the glade had a rich green and stayed this way throughout the year. Wouldn’t it be nice to build a cosy nest in its branches and watch winter pass from up there?
“You’re buzzard breakfast on a silver platter!” Her brother’s nagging voice pulled Ira out of her daydream.
“The meadow is protecting me!” She jumped up and brushed her hands over the blades of grass. They reached up to her stomach.
“They have extraordinary eyesight.” Mats straightened the acorn cap helmet that had slipped over his small beady eyes. “I just risked my life to get you! We have moss to forage and beech nuts to collect. And the storage chamber needs extending. Everyone’s working hard while you’re lying here, frolicking in the sun!”
“I’m sorry. I’ll be right behind you, I promise,” Ira said, trying not to laugh. Her brother's big, round nose always wiggled when he was outside their cave. Not that Ira's nose looked any different. It's just that she preferred to use hers to breathe in the crisp autumn air instead of sniffing for predators.
“If I get eaten on the way home, Mama and Papa will blame you!” Mats said before turning on his heel and stomping off towards the Old Oak at the edge of the clearing.
Ira sighed. Just one more bird. She’d watch one more bird before returning to her chores, preparing for winter.
She had never understood the other Foddles. They lived in caves, dug underneath the Old Oak’s roots, where they could hide from danger. They spent all autumn filling their underground storage chambers, so they wouldn’t starve and stuffing their home caves with moss so they wouldn’t freeze.
Ira looked up at the Old Oak’s crown in the distance. While her folk were busy preventing death by predator, starvation and cold, the Auané were preparing for the Annual Twirdle Dirdle. They would sign up for the competition and get busy building their kites while she had to dig tunnels and forage moss. When the last leaf of the Old Oak would drop on the ground, they would climb up to the highest branch. One by one, they would fly towards the Spirited Spruce at the other side of the glade. Whoever got the furthest would win and get to choose the best spot in the spruce to overwinter. The winner would watch birds all winter while Ira would sit in a dark cave with nothing to do except eat beech nuts.
“I’ve never seen a Foddle stare at the sky for so long.” Ira whipped around, scanning the grass for predators. “Hey, calm down. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Now Ira saw the furry brown face with a pointy snout poke out behind the grass.
“You did scare me,” she said to what most likely was a field mouse. “Why are you covered in moss?”
“Apologies. It’s my camouflage. I’m Mika by the way,” the mouse said.
“I’m Ira. Shouldn’t you stay beneath the canopy?”
“I’m an adventurer and my camouflage is protection enough.” The mouse’s whiskers wiggled as he sniffed the air. “Besides, I could ask you the same question. Why aren’t you hiding under the canopy? I thought Foddles were a cautious folk.”
Ira and Mika stared at each other for a moment.
“They are.” Ira let out a long sigh. “I just can’t help but wonder… there must be more to life than not starving, freezing or getting eaten.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” Mika said. “My folk thought I was out of my mind when I first talked about going on adventures. They asked me if I had a death wish.”
“How did you gather the courage to start your adventure then?” Ira asked.
“One day I spoke to a blackbird lady. She told me of her life in the human colony.”
“The human colony?!” Ira gasped. If her parents knew that she was speaking to a mouse, who knew a blackbird, who lived in the humans’colony, she’d be in trouble.
“Yep. The humans laid out raisins and oats for her in winter. One day she was extra hungry and wanted more. She knocked her beak on the humans’ window to get their attention.”
“What?!”
“Yep. Brave lady, she was. The humans found her adorable and have been giving her extra raisins and oats ever since.”
Ira took a moment to let that sink in.
“Anyways,” Mika went on, “that made me wonder–do I want to continue living like the other field mice? Or do I want to be like the blackbird lady, brave enough to ask for more?”
Ira’s gaze wandered to the crown of the Old Oak again.
“Foddles and Auané aren’t so different, you know,” Mika said. “You‘re both fae folk who see the world through different lenses. Nothing keeps you from trying the Auanés’ lens on.”
Ira looked into Mika’s beady eyes. Was her heart’s wish so obvious? Why could a field mouse she had met only a moment ago see it and her own family couldn’t?
“Are you suggesting I sign up for the Annual Twirdle Dirdle?” she asked him.
“I’m not suggesting anything. All I’m saying is, I tried the blackbird’s lens on and never looked back.” With that, Mika dashed into the high grass and disappeared.
Thank you for visiting the Dreamweaver’s Grove!
I hope you’ll enjoy this autumnal adventure of the Auané and Foddles.
Peace to all beings.
You fellow Dreamweaver,
Stella
