Fae and the last dance of sonsie summer

The air was heavy with the scent of dying and rotting leaves, a strange perfume that seemed to hang thick and motionless in the Scottish twilight. The once vivid and vibrant canopy of greens had begun its annual transformation. Its leaves were now painted in the most gorgeous shades of golds, crimsons and ambers. The sun you know that big fiery yellow and gold ball was dipping quickly below the horizon, casting long dancing shadows across the forest floor.

At the end of this dying summer, a last gathering was taking place. A gathering of creatures both human and not so human had come together to witness the last dance of summer.

The last dance was always called The last dance of sonsie summer. Nobody remembers why the last dance gets called the sonsie dance when really when you think about it, it is the first dance of summer that should be the sonsie dance.

Sonsie for all you non-Scots means to bring good luck.

But then maybe they called it sonsie so that it brought good luck for the autumn.

Ach who knows, thought Anya, the elders were one heck of a strange bunch. I mean yesterday we discovered something they called a table. A table? Why, I mean it has four legs on it, so why not call it a leg holder? But no, the elders said it is a table. So we have to call it a table.

I mean really, who the fluff do they think we are!

They had all assembled in a clearing which was a place of ancient power (according to the elders) and where the energy of the earth pulsed beneath their feet.

A bonfire crackled and hissed its flames reaching towards the starry sky. The flames were fighting and strangling each other in their efforts to get to the stars first!

Around the bonfire sat a group of people their faces illuminated by the light from the dancing flames. Some of them played instruments whose melodies blended together into a haunting symphony. Meanwhile others whispered stories with their voices being carried away on the gentle breeze.

In the center of the circle stood a young woman named Fae. She was clad in a flowing white dress, her hair adorned with brilliant blue wildflowers. In her hands, she held a small wooden flute, its surface intricately carved with many symbols of nature. Fae closed her eyes and began to play. Her music filling the air with a sense of peace and tranquility.

As soon as Fae had picked up her flute, everyone had fallen silent even the leaves seemed to stop rustling and the flames died down. When Fae played though, the trees seemed to sway in rhythm with their leaves rustling like whispers in the wind. The creatures of the forest emerged from the shadows seemingly drawn by the melody. A family of deer grazed nearby on wee mushrooms their eyes soft and gentle.

A wise old owl was perched on a nearby branch his gaze fixed on Fae. Every year he came to the sonsie dance and he was perched on this very branch many years ago doing the same thing when Freya, Fae's grandmother had been the young woman playing the flute.

Fae's music reached a crescendo and with it a powerful surge of energy seemed to whoosh through the clearing. The bonfire blazed even brighter the flames reaching even closer to the heavens. A gentle breeze swept through the forest, carrying the scent of autumn with it.

Suddenly the sky erupted in a dazzling display of fireworks. Brilliant vivid reds, greens and blues painted the night sky, reflecting in the eyes of all the gathered b. The people cheered and clapped, the animals clipped and clopped, all around their joy was infectious.

As the fireworks fizzled and faded a hush fell over the clearing. The moon which was now full and bright, cast its silvery glow over all the forest. Fae was standing alone with her flute raised towards the sky.

She played one final note, a long mournful sound that echoed through the trees.

And then just like that, it was over.

The last dance of sonsie summer had come to an end. As the people began to disperse, they carried with them a sense of peace and contentment. They had witnessed a magical night. A night that would forever be etched in their memories, for some it was their first sonsie summer dance and for some it would be their last.

As for Anya, she stood alone in the clearing, watching the moon rise higher in the sky. She knew that the cycle of life would continue. She knew that the cold, dark days of winter would soon be upon them.

And she knew that one day she would replace her mother Fae and play the last dance of sonsie summer.

But for now, Anya was content to simply be present, to live in the now, to appreciate the beauty of the moment.

This story is written for the Scholar and Scribe and Dreemport collaboration event The Late Days of Summer and this is for the Week 3 event Vacation to a Parallel Universe

Catch the Scholar and Scribe and Dreemport event announcement posts.

Thanks for visiting. I hope you enjoyed Fae and the last dance of sonsie summer

Wishing you a wonderful remainder of your week ahead!