The Mystic Mountain
Copyright Andrew Darling Sept 16, 2007
They walked up the hill and when they reached the top they looked around for a good place to stop. The day
was warm and sunny. The breeze was delightful and there was a buzzing sound from the bees as they
gathered nectar for their honey.
They continued to walk a short while, hand in hand and eventually saw an oak tree with lush grass underneath.
The girl ran ahead to the tree and sat down, proclaiming “This is the place Grandpa. This is where I want to
have our picnic”.
The place was magnificent. There was a rolling hillside on one side and a valley full of mist on the other. The
birds seemed to like it also as they chirruped loudly. Grandpa laid out the blanket and put down the wicker
picnic hamper.
“Shall we eat now?” The girl asked.
“Why not.”
Grandpa opened the hamper and spread its contents out for them to examine. “He asked what would you like
to drink?”
“Is there any sivvy Grandpa?”
“Let’s see… umm, yes.” Grandpa passed a can of fizzy drink to her.
They ate for a while and the sun seemed very warm. Grandpa looked drowsy and nodded off to sleep.
As Grandpa dozed, she saw a small stream a few feet from where they sat and walked towards it. As she
approached, the mist lifted a little and she saw a black bear. It was about her height and was dancing and
skipping towards her. As it got closer, it started to sing.
“Doo-dloo-doo-doo-doo
Doo-dloo-doo-doo-doo-doo
Doo-dloo-doo-doo-doo-doo
Doo-dloo-doo-doo-doo-doo...
I’m singing in the sun
Just singing in the sun
What a wonderful feeling
I have food in my tum
I’m laughing out loud
At the birds up above
The sun’s on my fur
And I’m ready for love…”
She called out to the bear. “I didn’t know bears could dance and sing”.
The bear looked startled for a moment and came closer.
“Why, not?” Said the bear.
“I didn’t even know bears could even talk.” She replied.
“You think talking is just for people?” Said the bear.
“Well, yes.” She said. “I don’t wish to be disrespectful, but no other bears I’ve met, have ever said anything.”
“Well I’m a special bear.” The bear replied. “What are you doing here?”
“Me and my Grandpa are having a picnic.” She replied.
“I like picnics. Got anything left?”
She walked to the hamper and replied. “I have a piece of grandma’s cake, an apple and a cheese sandwich.
Do you want them?”
“Yes, please.” Replied the bear.
She gave the bear the goodies. He sat down and started to eat.
“I’m pretty smart.” He said. “Ask me a question.”
“You seem to like dancing a singing.” She said. “Who is the best dancer and the best singer?”
“Aaah.” Replied the bear. “A tough question. You’d think I would reply someone famous, since I was sort of
singing a well known song. But you’d be wrong. Nope, there are some fantastic people that can dance and
sing, but by far the best singers are the birds.”
“The birds?” She questioned.
“Yup, they always have a happy tune, they sing all the time. Their songs are beautiful if you take the time to
listen.”
“Okay.” She said doubtfully. “What about dancers?”
“Well that’s easy, the wind.” Said the bear, having finished the sandwich he started munching on the apple.
“The wind?” She said. “The wind doesn’t dance.”
“Of course it does.” He replied. “Not only does the wind dance, but everything and everyone that comes in
contact with the wind dances also. I’ll show you, lie back on the grass and look up.”
They both lay on the grass looking upwards.
The bear continued “Look at the clouds. See how elegantly they glide across the sky. Look at the leaves on
the trees and see how they dance in the wind. Look at the branches and see how they sway. “
She had to agree. The bear was right.
Even the birds would be flying straight and suddenly they would curve and dip as the wind caught their wings.
The bear finished the apple and tossed the core into the grass. He straightened down his fur and started
walking down the valley.
“Are you leaving?” She called.
“Yes.” He said. Enjoy the mountain.”
“What mountain?” She asked, and as her words were spoken the mist lifted and there was a large mountain
immediately in front of her. It rose quickly. It had grassy slopes, then some forests. At the higher levels the
trees thinned out and there was snow peaks. She could not believe that they had not seen it when they first
arrived.
As she looked, a bird flew from the upper reaches of the mountain. It banked and soared, but even as it flew
this way and that, it was pretty clear it was approaching her. As it approached, she saw that it was an owl.
Eventually it landed on a branch of a nearby tree.
She asked. “What’s your name?”
“I don’t have a name.” The owl replied.
“Everyone has a name. I have a name. The bear has a name.” But it occurred to her, that she had not
actually asked the bear, if he had a name.
“Well, I don’t have a name.” Replied the Owl. “I’m simply Mr. Owl.”
“Okay.” She replied. “So how do people know who you are? I mean, don’t you get confused with other owls?”
“No. I’m Mr. Owl, my wife is Mrs. Owl. I know who she is and she knows who I am. We don’t need names. That’
s all nonsense that you people make up.”
The owl flapped his wings and left in a huff. A few moments later another owl approached and landed where he
was perched.
“Have you seen my husband?” The owl asked.
“Mr. Owl was here a moment ago, but left when I asked what his name was.” She replied.
“Oh, don’t bother about him. He doesn’t have a name as such. But I call him snuffly because he’s all fluffy and
warm especially when the North wind is blowing snow.”
“What can you tell me about the mountain?” The girl asked. “Does it have a name?”
“You’re very bothered about names, aren’t you?” She responded. “Look the mountain is very magical. We
animals call it The Mystic Mountain. It’s very special and very few people ever see it. If you want to know more
about it, ask the stream.”
“The stream?”
“Yes.”
“Can it talk?”
“It’s been babbling to itself all down the mountain. It probably wants to talk to someone else by now.” Mrs. Owl
flew from her perch, in search of snuffly.
The girl walked to the stream and it was babbling to itself but she could not understand what it was saying. So
she sat on the grass and watched the water bubble and splash its banks.
The water came from the upper reaches of the mountain and flowed down its slope. It passed her and
continued down the valley into the distance.
As she watched the stream, she said to herself “I wonder where the stream started.”
The stream seemed to form a whirlpool and formed a reply “From up the mountain, where else?”
“I’m sorry?” She said, not quite believing the stream spoke to her.
The stream replied “That’s okay. You’re not to know where I’m from.”
Still a little confused she asked “Tell me about yourself?”
The stream formed a bigger whirlpool and said “Well, I don’t actually know how I started, because I only know
myself when I was a baby stream. Before that, all is a blank. However, as a baby stream, I was up in the cold
part of the mountain. I was tumbling over stones and rocks. As I tumbled, other baby streams joined me and
we have been growing in size and speed.”
“Were you afraid of heights? She asked. “I am. Was it cold up there?”
“You like questions.” Said the stream. “Well, I suppose it’s good to ask questions so that you can learn. I’m
not really afraid of heights. I was a bit concerned when the bear came, as I though he might drink me up. But
he was too happy to worry me. The mountain is cold up there. You can really tell the difference coming down
into the valley, where the air is warm. Do you want to know what the scariest part of my journey has been, so
far?”
“Yes, please” She answered.
“Well.” Continued the stream. “When I was younger, I went in to a tunnel in the mountain. It was very dark and
for a while I could not see where I was going. I was traveling very fast. I poured through cracks, tumbled and
fell through the mountain. But eventually, I came out. It was at night and there were stars everywhere. It was
wonderful to be able to see where I was going again.”
“Do you know where you’re going from here?” She asked.
“No, not really.” Said the stream. “Some say we end up in a rock pools and dry up in the sun. Some say that
all the streams make one giant stream and then flow into the ocean, then the sun bakes the ocean to form
clouds and we start again by raining in the mountains. But I don’t know. What I can say is, that I’m having fun
right now.”
“Don’t you want to know what happens next?” The girl asked.
“Why?” Said the stream. “I just do my best and enjoy every day.”
The stream closed the whirlpool and continued to flow down the valley. In the distance the girl heard a gurgled
“Goodbye.”
“Goodbye and good luck.” She shouted. The stream was happy again going flowing down the valley.
The girl sat back and felt the sun on her face. She saw a butterfly land on a rock and it let out the strangest
laugh she’d ever heard.
“Hee, hee, hee.” Said the Butterfly. “You must be nuts talking to a stream. Don’t you know they’re dangerous?
One of my brothers stopped to talk to the stream once and it splashed him. With wet wings he could not fly. He
had to sit in the sun for ages to dry off. Did the stream wet you?”
“No.” She replied. “Anyway the water does not bother me too much. Do all butterflies talk and do you have a
name? No one else seems to.”
“Actually, I’m a flutter-by not a butterfly. I’m not a fly covered in butter. But, I do flutter as I fly by.”
“Oh.” She said. “I’m sorry. We all say butterfly. I didn’t know.”
“Hee, hee, hee.” Said the flutter-by, and it started to move towards a pretty flower. “Hee, hee, hee, goodbye.”
As the butterfly moved away, the mist came back and the mountain started to fade away. She could no longer
see the top of the mountain. So the girl went back to grandpa and sat on the rug. When she looked back, the
mountain and stream were back in the mist.
“Goodbye flutter-by.” She shouted to the butterfly, who was now heading down the valley.
She must have startled her Grandpa, as he opened his eyes and looked for her. He smiled.
“Grandpa.” She said. “You’ll never guess what happened to me.”
“Hummm… “He said. “Could it be that you talked to a bear, two owls, a flutter-by and a stream?”
“Grandpa, I thought that you were asleep.”
And she threw her arms around his neck and gave him a big just for grandpa hug.
“I thought that you would like this place.” He said. “I came here a long time ago with my grandpa.”
“Grandpa, can we come again?’
“Maybe.” He said. “But the mountain only comes when it wants to. You might have to wait like I did, until you
have grandchildren to see it again.”
“Grandpa, does the bear have a name?”
“You’d better ask him next time you see him.” He replied.
Grandpa packed up their things and they walked down the hill hand in hand.
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