Fiddler’s Green

The sun was shining, casting its golden rays upon the green where flowers danced in the wind. A young girl with bare feet danced merrily across the grass dressed in pure white. On the field there stood a fiddler dressed in black trousers, tunic and cloak with a young boy at his side. The tune the old fiddler played was melancholic but hopeful.  The boy cried silently and together they watched the young girl.

To her she was alone on the green, dancing to music only she could hear. The fiddler played his tune, like he had for eons and like he would for eternity. The young boy looked up at the fiddler who began to sing.

His day had come,
it was his time,
his time to dance,
to dance on the Green

The young girl continued across the green, stopping here and there to pick flowers which she wove into a garland. Her knees had spots of green on them and a smile decorated her beautiful face. She was her mother’s little angel, the youngest of five siblings.

But he was young,
too young to dance,
and so he shall remain,
forevermore upon the Green

With the garland decorating her hair the young girl’s feet once again danced upon the green. The air was warm with late summer and the sky clear and blue. Off in the distance the hushing call of running water spoke of a lively river.

He is lonely here,
would you take his hand,
and dance with him forever,
upon the Green

The young boy looked at the fiddler dressed in black as the old man sang. There was a subtle tune of joy amidst the sadness of the song. The young boy looked at the girl with flowers in her hair. I was afraid, his eyes seemed to say. I heard them, so many sad voices. Had I only known how lonely I would be, his expression seemed to whisper.

Her name was Ellenore, little lady Ellenore. Her father was an Earl, a wealthy, kind and just man. Young Ellenore had a fondness of wild berries and would in spite of her mother’s many warnings go out and pick some whenever she could, often ruining her dresses in the process.

She loved her mother but felt a little smothered by her. That was why she so often came out here to the green. She knew the place by heart but there was always an element of surprise, some form of novelty upon the green. She did what she had done so many times before and explored the fields, where to her joy she happened upon a bush where her favourite berries grew in abundance and she ate greedily and merrily until her lips were stained blue and purple from the berries.

You’ve taken his hand,
and given him this dance,
but why do I fear that I,
for the first time have made a mistake?

And so it came to pass that the young girl met the lonely boy and gave him the dance he had longed for. Together they swirled and danced to the music played by the Fiddler on the Green. Ellenore would be forever oblivious to the wailing cries of her mother and the silent tears of her father.

She was absorbed by the music of the old fiddler and the dancing boy. She danced with flowers in her hair and a scent of summer about her. Lost in a dance upon the Green, the music filling her soul, a young pair…

 

dancing to the tunes of the Reaper.

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About Fredrik Kayser

Everything is connected.
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