One man, alone, but not apparently lonely, walked calmly along the long yellow strand, its miniscule small particles of quartz compressing his feet, leaving behind him a path of images, each a reverse of a singular human foot. Had he looked back, he would have seen that there lay the passing record of the way he had chosen, a track of his past in the slow hours he had walked that day. In front lay a trackless plain, as yet unchosen, as virginal as he.
The gentle sun looked down upon the man, tanning the sheen on his perfect hide to a gentle, olive shade. Thi was truly a picture of the paradise which would echo ever onwards into the limitless ages of men yet to come. A haunting memory of life in its fullness recalled, redeemed, rewritten, resolved which would be all of our dreams, a folk memory, a spark of light into the confused, tortured times past, future and ever present.
Beside him, washing the sand, the river flowed gently by, through this land, which provided him all he needed in this, his life. It progressed past providential trees, through soaring sky-reaching hills and along spreading fertile valleys. Further upstream and further in its wild youth it fell racing through deep gorges, plunging into dark reflective pools alive with livid golden fish, breathing the fresh mountain water as it flowed across their feathered gills, on and out past their silvery scaled bodies that flashed in the sparkling sunlight.
The tree shadows near the beach spoke of long since mid-day. How often, he wondered, have I walked this place? He knew not. The peace of his place spoke inwardly to his everlasting soul; deep calling to deep. As this did also to the uncountable animals and plants which he encountered anew during each passing day. But, as light gave way to night with each passing day, time did not concern him.
Inwardly, he felt now the need to eat and drink. There was sweet soft fruit on many of the trees, and lip-purpling berries on the lower bushes. As he approached he passed small and large animals, and insects eating. He stopped and leaned over a white feathered dove as it pecked unconcernedly at the free riches of the land. The bird made way for him, hopping to one side, allowing them to gather food together. As he leant across the bird his hand brushed the feathers, but the bird was not alarmed.
Back from the beach, in the trees nearby a large cat lay along a branch, watching the scene drowsily. A goat jumped past her into the tree to get to the yet higher fruit, but the cat went on with its loud purring as she drifted off to contented sleep. As he sipped from his cupped hands from the shallow water he again pondered the place around, below and above him. From the earth came, unbidden, fresh tasty plants to eat, water springs of sharp coldness and refreshing purity. Around him were animals and birds of many different kinds; such a strange and rich variety of forms and colours. And above him, during the day, were insects and birds filling his ears with their chanting, shouts and songs of endless variety.
Refreshed, he left the company of his fellow-creatures, heading off to the favoured covet where he nested in his gentle den of moss, probably to watch the lively sun set past the unbridgeable sea, and perhaps catch a view of that less-regular companion, the moon, casting its colourless light upon the quiet sleeping land. Once, he recalled, he had seen stars shriek noiselessly across the blackened sky, like glow-flies, but also, unalike. For the flies were not where the stars are. There are, in his mind, not only three places in the land - under, on and above the soil - but there were three places to this ‘above’.
These were: firstly, there is the near-place where the birds fly, far above the height he or even one of the large cats could leap or climb. Then, far above this, there is a visible but untouchable place where the lights shine; this too was livid with another life, one that holds the smallest lights in place, and perhaps another which propels the sun and moon which light the land, and which directs the bright small lights - the white one, the red one and the yellow one, and the blue - in their sky-bound wanderings.
But, in his mind this was not all. For there was a third ‘above’; a place which, as he often meditated upon the dark night sky. This he could not see or touch, but felt inwardly, as if he was moved as the lights of the sky were moved. Imagining how this was so, he found himself inexplicably pining for this utmost place, particularly as the restless work day gave way to the motherly enwombed night. A place where he had left and now wished to return to. How did he know this? I cannot see this with my eyes, or hear of it with my ears, yet my soul - me, I - long for it like an unborn kid in a she-goat struggles to be released from its warm and temporary place of safety.
As he watched, the gleam of comforting mist arose around his night-bower, clouding the panorama of what lay above. His eyes closed, and his naked body was warmed by the proximity of a bull-ox which often shared his sleeping place. Nearby slept smaller animals, also sharing the common bower. As the night darkened, the shadow of an even darker-than-night figure crept by, eyeing him furtively. It was alike him, but not; like a badly drawn man. The passer-by snorted, clearing his nose, muttering, Why him, Master? All this glory, just for him?
At dawn the man awoke. Several of his night-time companions had left to be about their business. The bull too had gone, leaving a slight chill on the mossy bed. He arose, stretched, filled his lungs and shouted ‘Ayyee!’ in a declaration of life and the new day. Birds swept up and flew from the tree above him, filling the air, arching in beautied murmuration. Today - shall He come? the man pondered as he sank into the river to wash away the stiffness and sleep of the night past.
Having eaten and drunk of rich, sweet fruit with green peppery leaves of ground plants, he again washed his face, mouth and hands clean of the meal. Nearby the large cat sat on her haunches, swollen with young. Her mate was off elsewhere, possibly awaiting the birth of their young. She watched him, her teats as swollen as her abdomen. The man knew of these things. I have often seen the beasts pair off and mate; the females grow large and so easily give birth to their new young. Miniature images of their parents.
But, he did not ponder his own lack of a mate. This was not yet awakened in him. The she-cat will give birth in just a few days more. As he watched the larger male step softly and ponderously as he brushed past him, heading towards his mate, licking her head and ears as she, head-up, refreshed herself in this mutual love which had brought them together, bound them in union, and would raise, teach and protect their new life as a family.
A shadow fell at his side. It was, the man knew, the One he was expecting. The visitor took a seat beside the man and watched the two cats before them. That, spoke the visitor, is what we might call a ‘kat’. The man mouthed the word and said, cat. The visitor nodded; as you have spoken, it is now a ‘cat’. The visitor arose, presenting his hand to the man, raising him up to stand erect. I have a work for you to do. It is one that will interest you. I don’t compel you to do it - it is for you to do should you wish. But, it would please us both if you agreed with my will.
The man continued to look at the cats. There was something good about his new companion; his warmth of character, his greatness wrapped up in such a disarming presence; you feared nothing even if there was a feeling of potential power hidden. It was as if the visitor was here even when he was unseen; having stepped out of another place, then enclothed in form, into this place of the man. For the visitor saw him whether or not he was visible in this man’s land.
I would like to do this, as you have requested the man spoke. The visitor pressed his forearm with his hand, breathed out contentedly, and turning, walked out of sight. Cat, the man said. Being pristine and in this place where there was no need to fear of work, his mind became engrossed in the task. With each creature he met, he stopped, considered it carefully, then composed a name, ox, bird, fish … At midday, when he sat down to eat again, he took a stick and scratched in the sand an image: a round head, an oblong body, a tail, and long whiskers. Cat he said. Beside it with a single sweep he drew a long oval and a triangular fin at the other end. He then poked the stick in the image to make an eye. Fish he said. Then he drew a large head, with two twisting horns set between two triangular ears. Ox he said.
As the days passed he had named several animals, and plants, and other things. On the sand further sketches were now added: a four-sided star. Bird he said. A wavy line. Water he said. An upright line with two horizontal spars. Tree he said. Two downwards arrowheads that reminded him of sharp teeth. Snake he said. In time he found a large flat stone that was too big to move, and taking a sharp stone he carved the images on the surface. He had invented signs that speak. He stood back, feeling a new thought, one of power over these things the signs represented, as if by them he had cast a spell.
When he returned that evening he found the visitor looking at the stone. The man stopped, feeling an uncertainty. The visitor turned and looked carefully at him. You did this? he asked. Yes the man replied. The man and the visitor stood considering each other. Eventually, the man looked down and away. When he looked back he was again alone. He walked to the stone, ran his finger over the signs, smiled, and headed off to rest another night.
The stone was soon covered with imagery: the sun and the moon, dawn and dusk, lizards, and one of the man himself. This was the final image he had carved, and reflected how he saw himself, not how others would see him. It was an image of a head, facing left. Why left? Because the sun rose to the left of the stone. He thought of the positive feeling the image presented. He had also outlined in the sand a head facing west, towards the sunset, but it created a feeling of uncertainty and loss; as of heading into the cold darkness beyond the warm light of day.
He swept this image away with his stick. But, it remained in his head.
As the man was sitting considering his work, a task now done, he was again joined by the visitor. The stone with its carved images had somehow altered the relationship between the two. The man had somehow grown up beyond merely eating, drinking, washing and sleeping. He had been given a task, and he had succeeded, perhaps in some way beyond the expectation of the visitor. Yet, the visitor was, as ever, calm and unperturbed. He pointed his finger and drew in the sand: a tree. Beside it the man drew another two and said, three trees. The visitor swept away the image and said no; just one tree. The man quietened himself to listen.
There are many trees and plants here, which you have made free use of. But there is one - the man knew which one that this was. A tree of such beauty, bearing bright fruit, but only on the highest branches far away from his reach or ability to climb. He had tried to reach it recently, but the topmost branches were slim and weak, unable to bear his weight and bulk. Yet, the man watched enviously as the birds, rodents and monkeys all reached and ate. This had angered him. He had even thrown stones and sticks - was it at the animals or to dislodge the fruit? - but this had caused a ruckus amongst the feeding animals, causing some to shun him.
You are not to eat the fruit of this tree. The man was disappointed. He so wanted to reach up, pluck and bite into this unknown delight. It haunted him whenever he walked past the tree. He had even taken to walking in other places, but he felt ever drawn back to the tree, where he would sit and ponder it. Everything he ate seemed less good. But, now the visitor had spoken, so that was that.
You can eat everything else. The visitor spoke, then sat, considering the man. I will not fence this tree around with thorns or hedges, for this will only entice him further, and he may hurt or end up killing himself with the allure of this solitary bar on his desires. For, if he cannot deny himself something so small, then everything, good and evil, will soon fall within his grasp.
The visitor went away. The man stood, still looking at the tree, sighed, then turned away. And, indeed, he never went there again by himself, but busied himself with his names and symbols, creating an ever clearer understanding of the flora and fauna, rocks and waters, skies and the lights above him. He had even found another flat stone and carved on it the night sky with its patterns of stars. Surely, there is enough in this work to fill my every desire the man said to himself.
The visitor came regularly now. He and the man talked of the seas, the land and the skies. One day, as they were talking, the visitor placed his hand upon the man’s head and a deep sleep fell upon the man. How long he slept no-one knows. But, when he awoke he was not alone. The visitor had gone and beside him, on the strand, lay another person, like him yet still not. He was in shock as he looked at the woman sleeping beside him. She was smaller, rounder, and of the same flesh as he was, but somehow potently alluring.
He tried to stand up, but was paralysed, for fear that this vision would disappear before his eyes. Is this a gift from the visitor for my obedience? The man watched on and on; he knew not how long. As he pondered this beauty the mother cat with her young walked past them towards the water. She looked at him, and at the woman, and growled a deep purr, walking on with her heavy paws. And he knew. This is my woman. He felt as if she had always been there by him, as if he had never been without her.
He leaned over and touched her arm, and she awoke, staring upwards at him. After a short while she smiled, and he did too. They continued looking at each other, oblivious to the life around them. The man was thinking, but only of his knowledge and writings: she must too be named, and a symbol made. I will call her ‘wo-man’ since she is just as I am, a man, but somehow newer and differently made. So in the sand he drew the face of the man towards the east, and beside it the face of another - the woman - facing the west.
When the woman spoke she said, I am Life and you are Earth. This confused the man; why are there now two symbols for Man and also two for each of man and woman? Never before had he known other thoughts than his own, and he looked at the woman in much the same way that the visitor had considered him when he first carved symbols in the rock. I will need to think carefully how my life will now change with another of my own who is bound to me forever. In the distance the visitor watched and listened. Then he spoke quietly And I will never be far from either of you, no matter where your works and words may lead you.
As the cat and her kittens drank and swam at the riverside, a strange snake slipped unseen from a rotten overhanging branch into the darkened water, heading towards the smallest of the young cats. It smote at the rearmost paw then dragged down the kitten into the depths. Throughout the remains of the day, as the light receded from the land, the troubled father and mother cat searched hopelessly for the lost little one, howling as the remaining kits mewled for their ever pacing mother’s heaving paps.