Murmurations

The image is a NASA photo of the lunar module descending towards the Sea of Tranquility; taken by Michael Collins, Apollo 11, July 1969

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The day was cool but bright, with a promise of warmer sunshine to come once the morning fog had cleared. It was Nia's day off, and as they ate breakfast they looked over at the pile of bright blankets that lay on the back of the sofa; just waiting to be parcelled up.

In recent days Nia had been knitting a lot more than usual, unable it seemed to concentrate on the books they had been reading. This had never happened before. Nia was at a loss to understand why the printed pages, that had always been both a refuge and a place of exploration and enjoyment, had seemingly abandoned their faithful friend.

Sighing, Nia finished the coffee that had gone cold in the bottom of their mug and put the breakfast things in the sink. Vowing to do the washing up later, they carefully parcelled up the blankets in brown paper and finished them off with a large luggage label. To each label, in large carefully written block capital letters, Nia had added the name of where each parcel was to go.

One parcel was destined for the charity shop, another for the hospice, and the third was labelled up for delivery to the small church of St Jude and St Leonard. Nia decided to drop off the parcels for the shop and the hospice first, as she was hoping to speak with the vicar - if he was there when she dropped the blankets off at the church.

Another Sword in the Stone etching to go with today’s post - Morgan le Fay’s Castle Chariot made of food, with a big cheesy moon rising behind!

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Whilst she was reading, Issie spent a long time examining a number of large diagrams that were cleverly pasted into the book so they could be folded out, concertina style, and studied at the same time as reading the relevant page of information in the book.

Fine lines and cross-hatched markings, along with numbered labels, mathematical formulas, and measurements of scale, were used in a series of detailed diagrams of the moon and its movements around the earth. A list in very small print, which described what each number referred to, appeared below each diagram. Issie was fascinated by the details, although she didn't always understand exactly what was being shown. She made lots of notes about the diagrams in her notebook, as question after question popped into her head.

Just as Issie finished reading to the end of the third chapter, Kiveh poured each of them a cup of tea and sat down at the table.

"So, talk to me about what you've read this morning Issie. What did you discover?"

They talked for more than an hour, Issie asked her questions and made even more notes as Kiveh answered them patiently and asked questions in return.

As their lively discussion drew to a close, Kiveh prepared lunch; leaving Issie to make a few final notes and save her place in the book before carefully putting it to one side with the others. It occurred to her that, in half a day, she had only worked through a tiny part of all that lay before her. Rather than feel discouraged, however, the thought energised her - Issie wanted to learn everything, however long it took!

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Issie awoke to the sound of steady banging coming from the room below. Startled by the noise, she nearly leapt up from under the blankets and was confused at first to be waking up in the unfamiliar room. Memories of the day before returned quickly as the remnants of sleep left her.

A home! A room of her own, and a purpose that made her feel that she finally belonged. It was more than she had ever felt possible, and Issie almost pinched herself to make sure it wasn't just a dream. A sharp draught from the skylight convinced her that she was awake, and she shivered as she got dressed before climbing down the ladder.

There she saw Kiveh sitting at the centre table, pounding away at something using a large wooden mortar and pestle. He put the pestle to one side when he saw Issie climbing down the ladder.

"Good morning Issie, did you sleep well?" He smiled warmly and moved over to the fireplace where something was bubbling away in the large pot that had held their soup the night before.

"Good morning! And thank you, yes, I slept so well... it was lovely, my room and... everything, it's all lovely" Issie walked quickly over to Kiveh as she spoke, still feeling a little nervous and keen to help him with whatever he was doing; to show that her words were in earnest.

"Excellent! Now get us some bowls and I'll serve breakfast - porridge and honey today. Something to keep us going!" Kiveh was feeling better than he had in a very long time, with a renewed energy and lightness in his heart. He was looking forward to beginning Issie's training.

This was a day he had anticipated and thought about for many years, particularly recently as his energy began to wane and he became anxious about how he would continue to manage his duties if no apprentice came to him.

The pair carried their full bowls to the table, where a jar of clear golden honey was waiting alongside the silver bowl. Issie couldn't help but notice that the contents of the bowl looked brighter today, with fewer shadows moving in the depths of the clear liquid.

Kiveh cleared away their breakfast things and, as he washed up the bowls and porridge pot, he asked Issie to collect certain books and instruments from the cabinets which lined the walls of the room. Following his instructions and soapy finger pointing, she had soon created quite a pile of materials on the big table. Her excitement and curiosity grew with each item she retrieved.

With the washing up finished, Kiveh approached the table and opened a drawer at one end. He took out a large, cloth covered book and a pen and gestured for Issie to sit down before passing both items to her.

"You will use this to keep notes on your lessons and training Issie. Keep it safe"

Issie nodded and placed her hand reverently on the cover of the book, before opening it and running her hand over the smooth paper. She smiled down at the book, before looking up at Kiveh in anticipation of his next instruction.

"This morning you will begin reading the essential Keeper lore and literature" Kiveh pulled a book from the pile he had asked Issie to collect. "Starting with this".

He handed Issie a slim volume with a brown leather binding, worn smooth and dark by the hands of generations of readers before her. She couldn't make out the embossed letters on the front of the book, the gilding had long since rubbed away and all that remained of the letters was a series of slight dints in the leather.

Issie opened the book to its title page, printed in deep black ink on heavy paper.

'Treatise on the moon; its habits and wanderings. As observed in the heavens, wherein is comprehended the whole neccessarie nature therof. By Wm.Crator, scribe to the Keeper of the Moon. Aberdene. Imprinted by Edward Raban, dwelling upon the Market-place at the Townes Armes, 1627. Cum privilegio.'

The writing looked strange to Issie, with odd spelling and f replacing s in unexpected places, but that just made it more magical in her eyes.

"Read up to the end of the third section, and then we'll discuss any questions you have" Kiveh instructed. "I'll make tea" he added, moving away from the table to fill the large black kettle with water and set it over the fire.

With a last nod to Issie, indicating that she should get started on her reading, Kiveh settled into his chair by the fire with a book of his own.

Issie felt a growing sense of wonder and excitement as she opened her book to the start of the first chapter. For the next few hours they both read in silence; broken only by the occasional supply of a cup of tea, which Kiveh was at pains to set down at a safe distance from the books on the table.

Although she struggled at first with the unfamiliar spelling and way of writing in the seventeenth century book, Issie enjoyed the challenge. She worked her way slowly through the pages, and managed to puzzle out the meaning of most of the words she didn't recognise; often working it out from how they connected with those she did know. She noted down the words and passages that remained a mystery, so she could check them with Kiveh later along with the thoughts and questions that occurred to her as she read.

This one’s accompanied by a little moon and stars patch, stitched to my cosy wool blanket 🌘

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For Issie the foundling, who had never in her life felt that she belonged anywhere, this was a moment of such powerful and overwheming emotion that she sank involuntarily to the floor. All the while, however, she stared at Kiveh with the widest and wildest smile - a smile of genuine joy and relief.

"I would like to be your apprentice very much" she said, "If you will have me. Although... I don't yet know what it is that you do..."

Kiveh returned her smile with one of his own, almost matching Issie's for happiness.

"Good, and you will learn" was all he said at that moment, but he held out a hand and led her to a chair on the opposite side of the fireplace to his own.

"Tonight we will sit and get to know one another a little better. Tomorrow our work begins"

For the first time in many months, Kiveh thought positively of the future; already planning Issie's training in his head. For Issie, it was the first time in her young life that she dared to think about the future at all.

As Kiveh had promised, they spent the evening talking quietly, exchanging questions and sharing stories. Issie had never felt so comfortable and relaxed in the presence of another person before. As a boy, Kiveh had enjoyed the company of others but, from the time his own apprenticeship had begun many years ago, he had had led an almost entirely solitary life; completely so once he became the Keeper, after the death of his predecessor and teacher.

Evening passed into deep night, the lamps and the fire began to die down and Issie tried to stifle a yawn.

"Time to rest" Kiveh announced, "Your room is in the roof space, just at the top of that ladder in the corner" He gestured to the far end of the room. "I hope you will find it comfortable, I enjoyed it for many years during my apprenticeship. And there are blankets and linens in the cupboard by the ladder, help yourself to anything you need. I will see you in the morning"

He proceeded to damp down the fire and put out all the lamps but one, which he handed to Issie with a quiet "Goodnight", before going into his room and closing the door.

Issie breathed deeply and whispered "Goodnight" to the closed door. She opened the cupboard quietly and took out some bed things. Although worn and mended, the blankets and sheets felt soft and clean and Issie hugged them to her chest, almost too full of emotion to breathe.

There was a small hatch at the top of the ladder which opened into a surprisingly large room with sloping walls, low wooden rafters and a small skylight. The room was furnished with a pallet bed, a large, full, bookcase and a deep blue woollen rug.

As Issie lay down she said aloud to herself, "My room. This is my room" as if to convince herself of this remarkable fact. For the first time since before she could remember, Issie let herself slip into a deep unconscious sleep where only dreams could find her.

The image this week is my photo of a scale model of the moon, made using NASA images, which was exhibited at the Natural History Museum in London to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the Apollo 11 landing in 2019.

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Kiveh looked at her thoughtfully, but said nothing for a few minutes. When it was clear that Issie was not going to continue speaking, he stood and waved a hand at the table in the middle of room as he walked towards it.

"Come, look at this and tell me what you see" He peered into the silver bowl and Issie thought he looked concerned, or perhaps puzzled, as he spoke.

Looking into the bowl from the opposite side of the table, Issie was mesmerised for a while by the dark clouds drifting within the strangely moving liquid. At times she thought she could almost see them take on the form of fantastic creatures, like clouds in the sky that make wonderful shapes before breaking apart and drifting on.

"What do you see Issie?" Kiveh spoke after a time, rousing Issie from her trance-like contemplation of the bowl's contents.

"I'm... I'm not sure. There are clouds, dark clouds moving. And sometimes they look almost like something else, other things, but ... they don't ever quite become anything before they move apart again. What is this? It's almost beautiful, but it makes me sad" Issie's curiosity won out over her nervousness once again.

"Before I tell you, I have a question for you. And I want you to take your time and think carefully before you answer it." Kiveh stood with his palms planted on the edge of the table, leaning foward slightly as he began to speak again.

"I think you were meant to come here. The work I do is important, but I am getting older and soon I will need to take an apprentice. Do you know what that is?"

Issie nodded but didn't speak, unconsciously chewing her lower lip as hope and anxiety warred in her mind.

"When I was about your age, many years ago now, I found this place and became apprentice to the one who came before me. This is how it has always been done. But even though you have been led here, it remains your choice to stay or to go. You are not bound to this fate and, before you decide, you should know that it is a solitary life that comes with much responsibility. If you choose to go, you will not be burdened with the memory of what you have seen and another will be called"

"How many have come to you before me?"

"None, you are the first"

Accompanied this week by a photo of a rock fossil that reminded me of the lunar surface.

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Kiveh stirred in his sleep, and opened his eyes. He seemed surprised at first to see Issie sitting in front of the fire, but relaxed back into his chair as he remembered their odd meeting.

"Would you like some soup?" Issie enquired quietly, "I think it's ready now"

"Yes... please" came the rough reply. Kiveh was not given to speaking much even under normal circumstancesm but in the past few days all he had said was the few words to Issie before he had fallen asleep again. His voice was rougher than usual due to disuse, but he wasn't loud or demanding so Issie wasn't alarmed at his gruff words.

"Bowls are in the cupboard" Kiveh once again waved directions at Issie, and she stood immediately to follow his instructions. Reassured by his mention of bowls, Issie felt reassured that she would be allowed to stay and share the soup she had watched over so patiently. She carefully filled two bowls with soup, and handed one to Kiveh along with a spoon.

They ate in silence, the supping of hot soup accompanied only by a low crackling from the fire.

It was dark outside by the time they had finished their supper, and as Issie washed up the bowls and spoons she mentally prepared herself for being asked to leave; thinking through her options for shelter that night.

She was startled out of her thoughts when Kiveh addressed her directly for the first time since they had met.

"Do you have a name? People? A home?" His voice was gentle, softening the abrupt questioning.

"My name is Issie. I was brought up in the Foundling Home, but I had to leave on my thirteenth birthday. I... I've stayed a few places since then" Issie looked down as she spoke, nervous of looking Kiveh in the eye. She was not ashamed, but questions like this made her uncomfortable and she was uncertain about how he would react.

"I see. How long have you been, er, travelling?"

"Two years, three months, and four days" Issie was precise in her answer; counting days was a comfort to her.

"Do you know what brought you to my home? I have had few visitors over the years, do you have a purpose for being here?"

"I don't know about a purpose, but I've been thinking a lot about the moon lately. It looks different and I can't stop thinking about it, wondering how and why it's changed and why it makes me anxious. I've been looking in the library, but I haven't found out anything useful. The same feeling, this need to know, drew me to this place. I've spent a lot of time in the park but I'd never noticed it before, then the moonlight made a path and I couldn't not follow it. I don't know what it all means, I don't know what to do with all the thoughts in my head..." Words poured out of Issie, as if Kiveh's question had unlocked her voice, and she couldn't stop once she had started. The last words came out in a single breath, muttered and with a rising note of frustration and panic.

The credit for this week’s picture is: Rob Gutro (NASA/GSFC), published August 6, 2015.

It shows the moon crossing the earth from a million miles away, and I used it as the icon for my GishFest team this weekend - Team Mostly Harmless!

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It had been several days now since Nia had seen the young reader who had been systematically working their way through the library's collection of books in section 523.3. They were surprised that the absence of a single reader was so noticeable, as they generally took little notice of individual library patrons.

This one had, in some undefinable way, made an impression on Nia that they found difficult to understand. Nia described the young person to their colleagues, to see if anyone else had seen them that week. No one had.

The young reader was still on Nia's mind as they walked home that evening, and recurred frequently in their thoughts as they made their tea of piping hot baked beans on buttery toast. Comfort food for a troubled mind.

Nia switched on the radio and took out their knitting. A series of episodic comedies, dramas, and discussion programmes filled the evening. Nia paid little attention to what was on, but the radio provided reassuring background noise as they knitted. They felt a deep sense of accomplishment when, after a few hours of careful work, the final square of what would be a colourful blanket was completed; the culmination of several weeks' worth of knitting. What followed was the very satisfying process of first laying out the squares to decide on the pattern and ordering for the blanket, and then piling them up again ready for joining together.

Nia was not a skilled knitter but they found it to be a relaxing pasttime. Recently they had taken to making blankets and donating them to charity shops in the town's high street and a small church they had read about in the local paper. The story had been centred on an interview with the new vicar who kept the church open at all times. Nia had been struck by the contrast between the kind and compassionate words of the vicar and the quotes from people who opposed him; their words were harsh and showed only judgement and cruelty. Contrary to their usual caution when it came to other people, Nia took an instant liking to the vicar. Even his picture captured an openess and genuine humanity that drew Nia's respect; the care with which he introduced himself in the interview, and identified his pronouns, only served to compound this deep feeling of camaraderie.

Over the past few months, Nia had given the vicar three small blankets of varying designs; some striped and some squared, but all brightly coloured and made from yarn Nia repurposed from old jumpers and cardigans. Some of these were found in boxes of their father's old clothes, stored in the attic and often feasted on by moths, and others came from the same charity shops where Nia donated some of their knitted blankets. Nia had an arrangement with these shops whereby any old knitted items that couldn't be sold, because they were too damaged or mishapen, would be put to one side for Nia to collect. And the blankets that Nia made from the repurposed yarn they donated back to the shop to be sold in support of the charity. It was a cycle of kindness and transformation that brought Nia great joy.

The image is of an object that has long fascinated me, the Bronze Age Nebra Sky Disk, from the Halle State Museum of Prehistory collections. I would love to see it for real one day!

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By the time Issie had finished bringing in the logs, Kiveh had fallen asleep in his chair. Issie quietly took down the matches and lit the fire, sitting in front of it on the hearth to nuture it into a warm, lively, blaze.

Unsure of what to do next, Issie continued to sit by the fire, cautiously keeping an eye on Kiveh; whose breathing was steady but shallow.

After about an hour, during which time Issie carefully tended the fire, Kiveh began to stir and Issie stood up, fully expecting to be told to leave. To her surprise, Kiveh simply looked at her and asked if she knew how to make soup.

"Er, no" She replied hesitantly, "But if you tell me how, I could have a go?"

"Right, well..." Kiveh proceeded to tell her where to find vegetables in his store cupboards and how to chop them up into the right sort of size for a good, hearty, soup; Kiveh was not concerned with peeling. Once that was done, Issie followed her strange host's instructions for making stock from celery sticks and an onion along with a handful of herbs from his planter on the window sill.

Dumping the vegetables into the stock pot, Issie carried it over to the hearth. Kiveh had pulled the trivet over the heart of the fire and gestured for Issie to put the pot on it.

"You'll need to stir it now and again" Kiveh told her. "There's a wooden spoon on the drainer"

Issie nodded and retrieved the spoon, then sat down again in front of the fire with the spoon gripped tightly in her hand like a weapon. She was unsure what 'now and again' meant exactly, but was determined to not get it wrong.

An hour passed. Kiveh continued to doze in his chair whilst Issie stared into the fire and, every now and again, gave the softly bubbling pot a stir.

(Image: Montes Carpatus Credit: NASA/GSFC/Arizona State University)

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Kiveh pulled aside the heavy curtain that hung across his door and leant for a moment on the door frame. The knocking had stopped and no sound now came from outside. He slid the bolts back and carefully opened the door.

He caught a brief glimpse of someone sitting on the doorstep, before they jumped to their feet and turned to face him.

A serious looking young person stood before him. They looked him directly in the eye, but he noticed their hands were held clenched at their sides, betraying a nervousness they clearly didn't want to show.

Kiveh cleared his throat, which unfortunately caused him to start coughing uncontrollably and he had to clutch at the door frame for support.

Issie stepped forward, instinctively seeking to help, and then paused.

"May I help you?" She asked hesitantly.

"Please" Kiveh coughed, holding out his arm for Issie to take.

Supporting Kiveh as best she could, Issie shuffled them forward into the cabin and towards a chair by the fireplace. She tried hard to concentrate on the task in hand, pushing down feelings of nervousness and curiosity, and ignoring the strangeness of the room in which she found herself.

Once Kiveh was seated, Issie stood awkwardly by the table and waited for him to say something. She ran her fingers back and forth over the worn surface, and found reassurance in the smooth, solid, wood of the table.

"Do you know how to lay a fire?" Kiveh's voice sounded dry and rough.

"Yes. At least, I think so. But you will need to tell me where to find the matches and things" As she spoke, Issie moved over the fireplace and assessed the tools and materials she could see around it. Using a dustpan and soft brush that hung beside the chimney, Issie started to clean out the ashes.

The ashes were deep, and still a little warm at the bottom of the soft heap. Once the grate was clean, Issie scrunched up some sheets of newspaper into loose balls and arranged them in the fireplace. Over these she placed thin dry sticks that she had found in a basket along with the newspapers. Then she looked to Kiveh, who nodded and smiled in approval of her work.

"Matches are on the mantlepiece, in that metal box on the right. You'll need to bring some logs in from outside before you light the fire, I wasn't able to bring any in when I returned home from... working" Kiveh spoke hoarsely, and coughed when he had finished. Issie nodded, and looked around for a glass. She found one by the side of the sink and filled it with cold water from the tap, offering it awkwardly to Kiveh who nodded his thanks and took a long drink.

"Where are the logs?" Issie asked, once Kiveh had finished his water.

"There's a pile at the back of the cabin. You'll need to use the log basket, but don't try to carry too many. They're heavy, so you'll have to take a few at a time" Kiveh waved in the direction of a large rush basket by the side of the chimney.

"Thanks. I will manage" Issie spoke firmly, but didn't look at Kiveh this time.

She picked up the basket and left the cabin to fetch the logs. After three trips with a nearly full basket the wall beside the chimney was stacked with logs almost to the ceiling. Kiveh remained silent throughout this activity, his only reaction a slightly raised eyebrow and a small smile when Issie returned with the first basketful and stacked the logs against the wall.