In her fair Colors

This is my love letter, to the higher ideal of love. It knows no boundaries, nor constraints. No obstacles, no hatreds can contain nor stop its evolution and inertia. We simply love who we love.

                          

                                                                                                   In her fair colors 

                                                                                                                By

                                                                                              Carlos Lorenzo Estrada 

"What else is woman but a foe to friendship, an inescapable punishment, a necessary evil, a natural temptation, a desirable calamity, a domestic danger, a delectable detriment, an evil of nature, painted with fair colours... "  the Malleus Maleficarum (The Hammer of Witches)- Heinrich Kramer

                                                                                            Part 1:  Spirits in Colors

     "To know the earth one must shed the skin." Whispered the shadow walker to the girl.  She awoke from death with the sounds of birds calling to her.

     I will tell you a story.  Woven by the colors of the Earth Mother and made of flesh from the skin of the animals she painted.  Stitched in darkness for the womb that gives birth to us all exist in shadow.  It is in our nascency we are eventually expelled into the luminescence of the Sky Father.  Within this yellow vibrant world which moves in such mysterious ways.  Shaped by the mortal eye and circuitous in its malleable nature.  Cyclical in the ever presence of hues that defines it's transformative evolution.  We are all born of these things.

     The Diné (Navajo) dwelt for a time near the Huerfano River in a valley of verdant sea.  The tall grass vibrant and strong wavering like the ocean tides blown across by the four winds.  To the northeast lay the grand pinnacles of Blanca and little Bear Peaks whose white snowcapped mountains paid homage to the Earth Mother's beauty.  The Spanish conquerors named the range of splintered monolithic landscape; Sangre De Christo.  One could not gaze upon them without prayers or blessings falling from the lips in their awe and reverence at what the eyes beheld.  The conifers and aspens of the wooded sierra swung and swayed dancing to the silent song of the breeze.  Their eldritch bones creaking in resistance to its harmonious musical timbre.  The rocks and slate imbued in separate tinges of grayish light cobalt or reddish chromaticity.  They were reflective of the duality of their defining nature.  Like all things of this land they bore the imprint of the Earth Mother and Sky Father and the dance that created all things therein.  

     Several hooghans of the small settlement rested not to far from the river's edge.  Their circular structure made primarily of wood, stone, and bark with the entrance facing the east in welcoming the Sky Father's first light of day.  They had an inherantly rustic indigenous scent.  Much like the surrounding landscape whose multitudes of fragrances epitomized these untameable vistas.  To take breath in such a place was to accept our absolute relevance in this universe of unbridled nature and bear witness to the will of our creators.  It was in one of these humble abodes that there lived a girl named Moon Bird.  She was named so for she was birthed in the deepest of night and welcomed by the face of the full pale moon.  It was said the sound of singing birds filled the night upon hearing her first cry.  She was born to the clan of the forest people and clung faithfully to their unwavering credence.  Defined by their heritage in the the vastness of nature's ardent reflection.  And before her birth a winter earlier was her brother Tall Feather.  At the time of this tale she was no more then sixteen winter's old.  They were orphans who had lost their parents a year prior to a band of marauding Apaches.  It was a day she will never forget for she bore deep wounds from this event, some visible and some unknowable to sight.  One being a immense scar that ran down along the right side of her cheek and ending upon her upper left collarbone.  She would often attempt to hide it, not out of vanity, but because it represented a sign of weakness to her, or so she believed.  Thus was existence in the wilds of these lands.  Moon Bird was stoic in her ways, as harsh as the lands that birthed her.  Uncompromising in her disposition, and yet when alone a gentle frailty and yearning to be seen by eyes meant only for her.  Eyes that were unjudgemental and favored to her colors.  She often assisted the elder tribes women in their chores when not dutifully attending to her own.  And many a night she could be seen staring up into the starry sky speaking to the spirits of her parents.  It was a comfort that brought her mundane life a sense of spiritual harmony.  Tall Feather, on the other hand, was rangy and thin of frame.  Admired for his attentiveness, and hunting skill by his elders, he had garnered respect and was often accorded a place in many of the tribal council meetings.  He was wise for his age and many of the older warriors thought he carried the soul of an elder spirit guide.  His bravery was matched by few, yet even he knew his sister was his better in these attributes.  Though he would never admit such things to anyone in the tribe.  As he grew in age he had taken to learning the tongue of the conquistadors in order to ply trade with them.  It was a skill that proved useful and advantageous in many ways.  When a tracker was needed by the Spaniards they would often call upon Tall Feather.  This trait only raised his value in the tribal council, but in the end would haunt him to the rest of his days.

     Fort Hidalgo was a small settlement of Spanish conquistadors located three miles to the south.  It held a regiment of forty soldiers and was under the command of one Captain Frederico Esteban Navarro.  Middle aged and born of Castilian descent he had married into a family of royalty. He was not a man of war, but he was a man of pride.  A man whose misguided ideas of faith defined the virtues of character he unflinchingly embodied.  God, country, and honor were strident unbreakable tenants he demanded of himself, as well of the soldiers who served beneath him.  He was despised by his father in-law for his peasant heritage.   Frederico would be sent across the sea to hold the lands conquered by Spain after the loss of his wife, Maricela, from child birth, but gained a daughter from the tragedy.  Her name was Isabella, and her birth softened his heart.  Golden flaxen hair, cerulean grey eyes, and fair alabaster skin painted her colors.  Her high born heritage was undeniable and Captain Navarro treasured her like a miser to gold.  So obsessive toward the beauty and purity of his daughter he would seldom allow her to leave the safety of their abode.  Only upon watchful eyes of soldiers he trusted would she be granted permission for short walks along the perimeter of the encampment.  Her youthful age belied the intelligence and grace that denoted her personage.  Only her profound curiosity and effusively loquacious nature elucidated her puerile affections.  

     We are drawn to things that are unattainable.  Ingrained in our very nature to accept no less then what is earned, nor desired.  It is why the wolf calls to the moon at night.  For it is captivated by the gleam of its light.  They met by chance these two young girls from opposing worlds.  Drawn to one another like the wolf and moon.  And for the briefest moment in time their lives would forever be inextricably entwined in their defining colors.

     When the two young girls first met it was by simple chance, though some who know and have told the tale before, state without question it was fated.  We can never know how the providence of the Earth Mother wills the path of two; intertwining their destinies into a single road.  Her ways are a mystery to us all.  But it was on the first day of spring that something new blossomed into this world.  Shaped by divine hand and colored in shared hues.  Tall Feather was called to Fort Hidalgo to assist the local "Mozo de cuadra" or stableman in the birth of a new foal.  Apprehensive toward the request, due to knowing very little of an animal's birthing process, he took Moon Bird with him.  She bore the experience of assisting the elder women in the village on the childbirth of a few young.  Leaving Tall Feather to surmise the labor of an animal could be no less different since we all are made in the eyes of the great spirits.  As they made there way past the fortified wooded gate and towards the stables many of the soldiers were in practice battle formations in the central parts of the fort.  Training in the early morning as required by the Captain's demand.  Their discipline to duty surprised Moon Bird some what. She took notice on how they carried their muskets upon their shoulders and walked in unison along the perimeter of the walls.  The uniforms they wore were kept in pristine and immaculate condition, and not one conquistador was out of step or wavering during their march.  It was the cultivation of self discipline, as well as indoctrination into the ways of war.  She could see how these foreigners were such formidable conquerors, for their unison in tactics were an undeniable strength.  As the two siblings entered the stables they were met by a squat old toothless Spaniard named Diego.  His black oily hair was unkempt and a scent of horse dung clung to him like an unseen mist.  His thick large hands were callused and worn like aged bronzed leather.  The old caballista took a liking to the young Indian girl, but she ignored his advances with objective disinterest.  She held a great distrust toward these occupiers believing them incapable of ever comprehending the spiritual essence of these lands.  And the people that embodied these fundamental ideas.  For the remainder of the morning until midafternoon they toiled in the difficult birth until finally a new life had entered the world.  As was their ways Moon Bird bestowed blessings of the Earth Mother upon the foal guiding it toward the mare to be nurtured.  It was then that suddenly arms wrapped around her from behind as a scent of lilac filled the air.  A fear began to rise up within her as she sought to free herself from the grip.  It was then that Tall Feather attempted to ease her apprehension and introduce her to the girl whose arms clung tightly around her.  Isabella had watched the entire event from a distance hidden behind the wooded entrance of the stables.  She was in awe of what transpired before her and of the young indigenous girl who had preformed with such care and compassion.  When Moon Bird finally turned to face the Spanish girl she was taken aback by her beauty.  It made her feel insignificant and hideous.  Every flaw and defect was more pronounced within her and caused her to look down toward the ground in distinctive shame.  Even as her brother translated the words of appreciation for what she had done Moon Bird wanted nothing more then to leave this place.  A place that troubled her spirit.

     The night had come bringing respite to a long and exhaustive day.  And as was often her custom Moon Bird sat outside her hooghan staring up into the stars.  She could see the great bear dancing across the sky in its star formation, while giving chase to the ever elusive rabbit spirit.  And in the distance she could hear a wolf call to the moon.  These simple moments encompassed the ever cycle of life.  The vastness of a universe and the spirits that reside therein.  Each twinkling of star light reflected an acknowledgement that the elder spirits were speaking to the living from a distance.  But on this night something new occupied Moon Bird's mind.  The color blue.  Painted in the eyes of a Spanish girl.  When rest had finally enveloped her troubled mind it would carry her away in a sea of indigo.

     She was awakened in the early morning by the sound of pacing boots outside her abode.  They seemed to go back and forth, moving in a nervous gait.  The sound had even riled to consciousness Tall Feather who gave his sister a curious look.  They quickly dressed and then peered outside their hooghan.  They were met by a smiling golden haired blue eyed girl.  She was dressed in riding clothes with black boots that rose slightly above the knees and a white billowy frock beneath a velvet black vest.  At the far end of the encampment they could see two conquistadors on horseback with one holding the reins of a rider less horse.  The young Spanish girl approached them in a timid yet figity manner as she struggled to speak at first.  She was shy and flustered which reflected in her blushing demeanor.  But once she overcame her bashful reticence the words flowed from her in rapid succession.  Isabella spoke in such a velocious manner both siblings marveled at the amount of words she could muster in a single breath.  At times Tall Feather had difficulty interpreting her words to his sister, but beyond them what was apparent was the need for friendship.  It was profoundly moving to Moon Bird who in turn invited Isabella into their home.  In the village there were no girls her age so it was a welcoming experience to finally be conversing with one.  At first Moon Bird felt the sense of unease well up on her once more.  It was that feeling of self judgement and lack of physical confidence in the presence of such allure.  But the moment Isabella complimented her long dark braided hair she fell into a secure sense of ease, putting to rest the apprehension in her spirit.   The Spanish girl's eyes never left hers.  Not once did they stray toward the scar upon her face, nor did they exhibit a disdain or superiority toward the siblings.  There was a trueness to her ways that displayed the kindness of her nature.  And when Isabella spoke directly to her it was as if the words spoken were only meant for her.  To Moon Bird it was exactly how she imagined the Earth Mother would converse to her in the many times she spoke to the stars at night.  As their long conversation drew toward an end Isabella asked politely if she could return once more for a visit.  Moon Bird replied she was always welcomed to their home for it was their custom when accepting friendship from those who honor its gift.  As she was preparing to leave there was a slight hesitation before she turned on her heels and draped her arms around the young native girl.  This sign of affection caught Moon Bird off guard as it even seemed to surprise her brother as well.

     The falling daylight was painted in the color of fire and fuchsia.  It swirled like a pool of living water before dissolving and giving way to a piceous starry night.  Emblematic to the tides of time.  Moon Bird was drawn once more to the allurement of the universe and the stars that spoke to her through their vibrant illumination.  Occasionally she found herself casting her gaze towards the southern wind and in the direction of the spanish fort.  What was her new friend doing?  Was she fast asleep?  Was she dreaming?  And if so of what?  Or who?  She remembered in their conversations that they both shared a common loss.  Neither had a mother who was alive and it saddened Moon Bird to know her new friend suffered from such a sorrow.  She vowed she would ask the Earth Mother for blessings to ease Isabella's melancholy.  And as she looked to the stars in reverence she remembered a tale once told to her by her mother.  A myth that spoke of empathy and the ways of the heart.  The wise spirit elders believed that when it comes to the way we choose to love we are either the bear, the rabbit, or the wolf.  To love like the bear is to be strong, powerful, and unconditional to its vow.  Yet it is maternal and protective in its strength.  To love like the rabbit is to be flighty, capricious, and give into its abundant nature.  Yet it is selfless and loyal to its tribe.  But it is the wolf that encompasses the best of all these virtues and is extraordinarily unique in it's defining qualities.  It is why she calls to the moon, for it is her ineffable luminescence that exemplifies the Earth Mother's amity for us all.  The fable often left Moon Bird to wonder; which one of these best reflected her fair colors?

     The following days of spring gradually painted the world in more deeper ebullient iridescence, as it awoke from it's long winter's slumber.  The mornings usually began with the nervous pacing of riding boots that roused the young native girl from her sleep.  She often smiled at the sound in welcoming comfort.  They would sit and converse through Tall Feather, who meditated their discussions at times finding their banter uncomfortably awkward.  He did not understand the ways of a youthful female's reasoning, which left him often vexed by their humor and inquisitive nature.  They would laugh at the things he did finding them humorous.  He was left a bit shamed and embarrassed for it often pointed toward some of his obsessive proclivities.  And nothing unnerved him more then their secretive manner, which even the boundaries of language did not seem to assail, nor hinder.  Communication was proving less of a nuisance as their kinship grew day by passing day.  A connection beyond words developed and flourished through their shared experiences and equal sense of theosophy.  The world around them, revealed by the Earth Mother, was their seminary cultivating and nourishing the bond they wove for one another.  It was in the colors and earthen tones they found commonality in their sentimental covenant.  It was their's and belonged to them alone.  With the passing days they grew less reliant toward Tall Feather as he became more of a nuisance impeding upon their budding friendship.  They welcomed the silence between them, for it drew them closer to one another.  It was in the silence that they found themselves, subservient toward the other senses to know one another.  A deeper meaning of self was more prescient in the quiet.  Conveying itself in simple gestures and expressive faces they shared with each other.

     There was a comfort that grew with the passing months, as the bloom gave way to the summer's warmth.  The imbued tincture of all things living shone with contrasting vivacity.  A portrait of the enlightened nature bestowed by the Earth Mother's palette, and illuminated by the Sky Father's joyous grace.  Vivid poignant depictions of conscious moving colors on a canvas of animated motion; their inertia carrying them to their inevitable end.  As the world around them motioned forward so to did their bond.  It was in the simple acts for one another during the passage of time.  The holding of hands.  The hidden glances.  The quiet moments.  Moon Bird committed to memory every facial expression Isabella made.  She memorized the small beauty mark painted upon the right corner of the spanish girl's mouth.  She was captured by how it would hide beneath the crease of a smile.  But what made her reminisce the most was the first kiss.  It happened as Isabella ran her lithe soft finger tips along Moon Bird's facial scar.  She began to weep feeling exposed and revealed for her hideous disfigurement.  She wanted to run and hide for it was her belief she was undeserving of any empathetic gesture or kind mercy.  It had always been an affirmed conceded weakness, which came to define her assault and near death at the hands of her Apache attackers.  But by a simple kiss placed along the scar her tendencies had been absolved.  A weighted burden of self loathing washed away by an act of pure tenderness.  It was strange to her.  To feel needed and wanted.  To feel cared for, and loved.  It was not unnatural, nor illicitly abominable.  It was simply a reflection of our perfect nature.

              

                                                                                         

Author's Note

This excerpt is part of a larger narrative of a short story and over two year process. I found it important to release this snippet at this time. It has been very difficult to write being put to the side, then returned to, and put to the side again. I am haunted by the voices of these two lovers and the telling of their story. I feel such pressure to be as perfect as I can in truthfully telling and the painting of their tale. Only time will tell if I ever accomplish it or not. But their ghosts will stay with me forever, as they should. To you readers who take the time to read this...thank you, for being a part of this painted world of love.

Reviews

[Dara]

This write had me glued to each word from beginning to end. I can sense the intensity in your writing and the effort you make to create the best possible scenario in the description of this beautiful budding friendship. It is a wonderful story and one I look forward to reading more of! I am reminded of meeting my best friend in elementary school. We are both straight but the innocence and depth of our friendship similar to Isabella and Moon Bird’s at that time. I really loved this!

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

Dara, thank you so much for the kindness of your review as well as the time taken to read this story. The themes are varied and speaks to love in so many ways. The love of self, culture, spirituality, relationships, and courage. I wanted above all else to capture falling in love, but also the the defining cultures and their faiths. The second half it is my hope to capture Isabella's Catholicism and the impact it has on her growing love for Moon Bird. With the eventual epilogue speaking of the nature of love in its finality. The qoute from the ancient Inquisitor Heinrich was to reflect how the Church viewed Witches but mostly women in a misogynistic subservient view, where the story itself celebrates womanhood in her many defining colors. What I released so far is the very little edited version of the tale which has taken over 2 years to write. It has been a struggle to complete but your kind words has made it more then worth it. Thank you so much, I truly am deeply appreciative of your time and review of one of my favorite stories.