How Grouse Saved the World - A New Age Tale
By Doug Collicutt
(Continued from Part One)
But it was to be a test, yet. The snow grew deeper, the nights colder and still longer, but, Grouse thought, "They do not seem to be growing longer as quickly." When a sunny day finally came Grouse used the warmth to venture near a marsh and found a huge patch of willow shrubs, loaded with thick buds. "There is enough food here", thought Grouse, "I will make it." Grouse settled in near the willow patch. Each day, he'd eat his fill quickly, then return to the shelter of a clump of small spruce trees and roost quietly or sleep beneath the snow. He was careful not to waste his energy or expose himself to the weather or predators for long.
Another new moon came and by the time of the waning gibbous moon Grouse knew he'd won, "The days are growing longer!" Day break came one clear morning and Grouse thought it time to confront the sun again. He strutted to the top of a small hill in the middle of a clearing, where he could see the sun, just above the horizon, and deal with it on his terms
"So, you've decided to come back, have you," boasted Grouse. "How long will it take you to get things back to normal?"
The sun stifled a laugh. "Oh, it will take me several moons yet to bring back the water and the green plants. By the way, it's good to see you've survived this far, Grouse," as the sun played along, "but, you've nearly as much winter left as you've lived through so far."
"Winter? Is that what you call this devastation wrought by your absence," challenged Grouse.
"Yes, it is a term for a period of cold and snow," answered the sun, revealing nothing more. "Do you think you can make it 'til the time of "spring", when the days will be warm again?"
"Of course!" blustered Grouse, though inwardly he moaned just a little at the thought of more "winter". "But, can't you return any faster?"
"No, there is a set time . . . or rather I require a certain time to readjust," corrected the sun, almost letting things slip. "Your fortitude has been an inspiration to me, and I will honour my word, but it will take some time."
"Very well," said Grouse, "But in the future, I will expect a better performance on your part. This "winter" is not acceptable." And with that Grouse terminated the conversation and strode imperiously back down the little hill.
"Strong, proud, AND just a little full of himself," laughed the sun to itself.
For all the time that "winter" remained, Grouse stayed true to his plan. He ate what he could, quickly, then kept to the shelter of the spruce boughs. When the returning sun had finally melted the last of the snow and new greenery began to emerge Grouse felt he could contain his pride no longer. He had survived. More than that, he had won, besting the sun itself! He had brought the sun back and saved the world! He found himself drawn to an old fallen birch tree, its trunk green with moss and lichens. With a deft hop he mounted the log. From deep within himself he sensed what he must do.
Grouse dug his claws into the soft moss, puffed out his breast and started to beat his wings, not to fly, but to rejoice. He beat them slowly at first, then faster and faster, until they were a blur. The sound they made gave him a start and filled him with even more pride. This was how he would tell the world he was here, that he'd survived, that he'd won!
Again he beat: whup . . . , whup . . . , whup . . , whup . , whup, whup, whup-up-up-up-up-up-up-up, whup . , whup . . , whup . . . , whup.
And again: Look . . . , at . . . , what . . , I . , did-did-did-did-did-did-did . , did . . , did . . . , did!
Grouse drummed his boast through the forest again and again. Whenever he felt the urge, he'd strut over, mount that old log and beat on his breast. But, after a time, he began to feel there was more to his drumming than just pride. There was a longing, too. A longing to know he wasn't alone, a longing to make contact with his own kind.
Then one bright, crisp morning as he perched on his log and drummed, she appeared, a female grouse, so like his mother, yet different. At the edge of the small clearing where his old log lay, she stepped out from behind a dense hazel bush and began to strut toward him. Grouse craned his neck toward her, stepped off the log and began to move toward her. From somewhere inside he new his role. As he approached her he drew himself up to impress her. He felt his neck feathers rise into a broad collar and arched his tail feathers into a wide fan. He swaggered and bobbed his tail from side to side. She continued to approach, slowly. As she came close Grouse saw pride and determination in her eyes. "Of course," he thought, "she is a survivor, too." Together for a moment, their passion flared, they mated, then she turned and left his drumming log as stately as she had come.
For all his drumming, and Grouse continued to drum for many days, only the one female had appeared that spring. This "winter" had been very hard. But, though Grouse never knew it, his one coupling was fruitful and a new brood of thirteen chicks came to carry his strength and perhaps his pride, too.
That summer Grouse came to understand the cycles of the earth and sun, and he often chided the sun for taking advantage of his earlier naivety. But the sun was not one to gloat. And in good time, autumn came and passed again. The challenge arose anew. "I will survive," thought Grouse to himself, as the first snowflake touched his wing.
Hope you liked this New Age Tale! We have another one you might also enjoy: Star Flower!
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