Thursday

BioNote

The patent for the first shelter built completely from biotechnology was on July 2, 2084.
This science was developed for governments looking for a cost effective solution to 
housing their armed forces in forested rural areas far from road access. 

Time Chapter 8






 Healer could hear the soft breaths of sleep coming from little feet.
The presents kept watch over little feet as he slept.

Yak & Spat flew to and from were little feet was sleeping.
So many new places to hide and seek in the tree house.

 Healer was always amused with their antics, 
The presents were not good pets but always good company. 

The presents names were Yak and Spat,
 Yak was a coyote and Spat was a fox.
Yak was the first presented to Healer but proved to be so ungovernable.
So soon after Spat was dispatched to Healer 
to bring some kind of order to the situation.

Order had never really came along but at least when people 
admired something that Healer was wearing or 
had she the Healer could not give them away with the all seeing predators.

Predators always recognize each other!



Saturday

Summer Home Chapter 7





Chapter 7

 The tree pod was not long in making it's frame after budding.
Green tentacles flew up the tree after there first appearance.
Then like magic, the frame of the summer home was made.
All that was needed now was for the walls, roof and floor to grow into place.
The roof was made from a couple of branches just down from the main canopy of the tree.
The top of the frame webbed out from the the v in the tree.
Tentacles grew from the spine of the roof. 
From there the green rolled out the skeleton of leaves and 
then the leaves filled in to make a roof for shade and the rain.


Monday

Weaver Chapter 6







All was so quiet as Weaver and his silk worms worked into the night.
Tea was warm in the cup and once and while Vermilion would fuss to have a drink from Weaver's cup.  
                                                                                        


Vermilion once wanted to speak his own named.
Weaver would say Vermilion and as every one known silk worms
cannot pronounce v sounds and all he could manage most effectively was the e.
So at the end of a long night they left it at 
Vermilion's name was shortened
 to just E.

Sunday

Little Feet Chapter 5




Chapter 5
That is so weird, I have always thought you should be able to grow your own house.....!
What?
Of course you can grow your own house how else would you make it?
You know find wood. 
Yes that is what you do find wood.

We just found this tree, it will make a good little summer place.
You can't walk that far so we will climb about half way up.
We must make it far enough away from the water ...ah the river under the tree.
So we will not be swept away in the night from rain raising the river....as we... you know.......... sleep. 
Sorry for being so short, I am very tired and need a bed.
The sun is too hot I just need to get a little further up this tree and.
Soon the strings were released from her pouch and before little feet's eyes a small
pod was being  wove up in the tree above his head.
Little feet could not look up any longer and soon lie asleep on the ground.
The Pod 
released itself slowly at first, the long spine was put down facing the blue above.
 After sitting it on the v of two tree branches she passed a oil over the stem. 
Then you could see the motion under the green pod shell.
Not long after that a small roundness popped out from the top seam of the pod. 



Tuesday

Vermilion Chapter 4



Chapter 4


 Silk worms take great care to bring them into colour. 
They must be cleaned, kept
dry and fed.  

Silence is a must but
singing is encouraged.
They say that song is what's needed to mature  them to colour.

But there is really no way of knowing the colour that they will spin when fully spinning.

Weaver found him self very found of all his team of colours, each worm spun a different colour and as any artist knows is that all the colours are necessary to express the message and keep the balance in the work.

Artist know but Mothers are quick to deny that their is always the one that is most favoured.
The ....... Vermilion.





Some of the brightest colours were so highly priced by Weaver.
Weaver knew his life would not be happy without them.

Vermilion slept in Weaver's pocket or perched on his head, they loved each other so.

Monday

Weaver Chapter 3



Chapter 3


I could weave as a very young child.
Most would be hopping, with the Hurry.
Hurry here and there because Winter loomed above all our heads.
The Worry made every one move to assure that
hungry would not arrive while Sun slept threw most of Winter.

I wove the harvest together for Winter's due.
But I was not part of the Hurry, It had no purpose here.

I have found an oasis from the Hurry.

Every harvest was better than the last with each  of the bundles I wove.
With so many bundles it was hard to see were they began and were they ended.
It was any ones guessed how many winters were stored away in the winter tree vaults.
Now it seemed there was more time than hurry.

Sunday

Whistler Chapter 2





Chapter 2



 I could whistle as a very young child.
Whistling while hopping, whistling goes so well with all things.

The whistle keeps everyone to the beat making every one work all the quicker.
So much quickening was noticed and I was encouraged to sit aside in song to move everyone along.

I loved too be busy, busy in songs to make the time go right along.
Whistling among the leaves in the trees.
Whistling on the top of a blade of grass so all could hear the song.
We all toiled for the harvest and soon the harvest was done.

The Meadow Chapter 1


Chapter 1


Dusk was soon to set on Pond.

Night was coming into it's silence of a late summer evening.
Morning dew cakes had been made and baked in the all day Sun.
Busy noises were announcing the start of evening as Weaver's breakfast of tea and cakes made there way to his loom.

Weaver had been working for hours by this time.
The last of Light was leaving the room and Weaver could feel her warmth go shortly behind her.

Weaver's sight was never what you would call " All There".
Even as a young cricket a distance view was not to been seen.

Pond was setting it sleepers to bed and waking Night for the turn had arrived.
Sound of birds turn over to frogs serenading Moon.

Weaver's loam was from top to bottom in the studio and all her worms lived in their cocoons in  the ceiling.
All the colours were the great company, by this time in weaver's life they were more than background the day.
Weaver had lost touch with most of her friends in the village.
The tea and cakes were enjoyed by all in the studio as they wove into the night.