Faerie Mushroom Connection_A Fairy Tale

More about Faerie Mushroom Connection_A Fairy Tale

Poem by
Katherine Mansfield

Now this is the story of Olaf
Who ages and ages ago
Lived right on the top
of a mountain,
A mountain
all covered with snow.
And he was quite pretty and tiny
With beautiful curling fair hair
Small hands like delicate flowers--
Cheeks kissed
by the cold mountain air.
He lived in a hut
made of pinewood
Just one little room
and a door
A table, a chair,
a bedstead
,
animal skins
on the floor.
Now Olaf
was partly fairy
So never
wanted to eat;
He thought dewdrops
raindrops were plenty
Snowflakes, flowers
sweet.
In the daytime
when sweeping and dusting
And cleaning
were quite at an end,
He would sit very still
on the doorstep
And dream--Oh,
that he had
a friend!
Somebody to come
when he called them,
Somebody to catch
by the hand,
Somebody to sleep with
at night time,
Somebody who'd quite
understand.
Somebody to come
when he called them,
Somebody to catch
by the hand,
Somebody to sleep with
at night time,
Somebody who'd quite
understand.

One night in the middle of Winter
He lay wide awake on his bed,
Outside was a tempest,
a fury, a calling
of wolves to be fed--
Thin wolves,
grey and silent
as shadows;
And
Olaf was frightened
to death.
He had peeped
through a crack
in the doorpost,
He had seen
the white smoke
of their breath.
But suddenly
over the storm wind
He heard a small voice
cry pleadingly
"I am a snow fairy, Olaf,
Unfasten the window
for me."
So he did,
and there flew
through the opening
The daintiest,
prettiest
sprite
Her face
Her hair
of curls
her dress
her stockings
and hands
were all white.
And she said,
"O you poor little stranger
Before I am melted, you know,
I have brought you
a valuable present,
A little brown fiddle
and bow.
So now
you may never be lonely,
With a fiddle, you see,
for a friend,
For all through the Summer
and Winter
You can Play beautiful songs
without end."
And then,--Oh
she melted like water,
But Olaf was happy at last;
The fiddle he tucked
in his shoulder,
The small bow
He held very fast.
So perhaps
on the quietest
of evenings
If you listen,
you may hear him soon,
The child
who is playing the fiddle
Away up
in the cold,
lonely moon.

FAERIES AND MUSHROOMS
WHAT’S THE CONNECTION?
WELL, WHEN THE POEM MENTIONS…

lived in a hut made of pinewood –
THIS REMINDS ME OF…

fungi’s preferred food,
which is decaying wood.

It also reminds me
of how fungi
can become
the new building
material.
It is
fast growing
non-toxic
and
biodegradeable.

pressed
mycelium
can become

A table, a chair, a bedstead,
even a whole house.

growing and
utilizing mycelium
then can help
to save and
preserve
our precious trees.
(which in turn can)
help to alleviate
GLOBAL
warming.

WHEN THE POEM MENTIONS
Dreamed of having a friend,

(see comment below, if you will)