Charlotte Blythe – A chat with Little Fawn

“WE are colour” she said. “We are every colour that you have ever seen and many that you have not. We are pastel shades, and gem hues. We are bright and clear colours. We are dark and cloudy. We are prisms. Sparkling in the sun and reflecting in the cool of the moonlight. All of us are colour but, we never show all our colours at the one time”. Usually, we try to show our beautiful sides, the ones that everyone likes to see us in but that means our dark facets are at the back. They are there but we try to hide them most of the time because when they come to the front, they are ugly and dull muddy colours. No-one likes them.

 She took a long draught on her clay stemmed pipe. The look of satisfaction on her ancient face. So many lines and skin the colour of fine polished chestnuts. Her eyes were watery blue? Like the gently flowing stream we sat beside. Her hands veined, arthritic and shiny. The grey smoke curled around her white wispy hair and away in to the air. I waited. Enjoying the calm that surrounded us. The unhurried pace, the knowing that there was more to come.

“People see Black, white, yellow, brown. They make judgements but what they don’t realise is that they are ALL these colours too, but only in a different order”. She let out an amused throaty chuckle, smiling to reveal teeth with gaps like a broken string of pearls. “I always found that bit funny” she said. “Like, those dim ones never realised that.  

The four-leggeds don’t carry that baggage. They see colours of kindness, intelligence, security, danger or cruelty. They see who to trust-or-not shades. They know that there are colours that the great spirits see that us two-leggeds can’t. Well, the shamans can I think, but that is because they move between worlds. The main thing is that everywhere you look, everything you see is colour. Colours within colours.  The grass on the prairie, the trees in the forests, the great oceans, the expanse of sky.  All an explosion of it so why should we be any different eh? Why should we not be that as well. We are no more or less than every other living being in our universe. Even if we think we are more special than the rest of our world ”

This was not an invitation to answer really, apart from a slow nod of affirmation. “Do you know what one of the harshest and hardest colours is? The colour of money. That is a colour of destruction and greed but a necessity unfortunately. It is there and we can’t get rid of it, but child, beware it. Don’t use it on the canvas of your life any more than you need to. It will draw you to it but the pot will never be enough. Stick to the natural ones and paint your life with them instead.” This time the pipe had died and so she relit it, drawing in and letting out a little series of puffs. 

“ We come from one of the prettiest colours of all you know. We are made from starlight. Yes, we came from silver starlight, and that is why our children are so beautifully bright when they join us here on Earth, Fresh from the night sky above us, I always told my children that when our loved ones leave us, be them four-leggeds or our two-leggeds, that’s where they go back to. The stars. Well, Nobody has given me a better idea yet anyhow!” That smile again that lit up her face.

She made to stand up, her turquoise beads and ear-rings chinking as she did. I walked  back with her in affectionate silence and stopped at the crossroads. “ I must leave you now and you must go back to your life child.” she said. “We will see each other again whenever you call me or need guidance. Through the prism of life”……. .. and my  great great, long-deceased, Ojibwa grandmother was gone, until the next time.

Published by Ian

Music maker and story teller.

5 thoughts on “Charlotte Blythe – A chat with Little Fawn

  1. What a magical, mythical and mystical tale. I love the way you use the concept of colour to portray characteristics and emotion. Your story created a vivid picture in my mind as I read it – more than once. If only I could meet Little Fawn, if only her message could be taken on board by society…great work.

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    1. Thank you Ian. I appreciate your comment. It meant a lot because although the story is fictional, those are the kind of beliefs I grew up with. Little Fawn was, in fact, my great, great grandmother.!

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  2. Ian encouraged me to read your story Charlotte, which I’ve finally just done. It’s atmospheric and calm despite the warnings Little Fawn is giving you. The slow pace is still exciting though, as you wait for her wisdom to be shared with you. I immediately looked for reference of Ojibwa and was interested to glimpse something of her background. Then to read that she was actually your great, great grandmother was astonishing. Both my parents lost their parents when they were still young teenagers, so I never knew grandparents, let alone great grandparents. The connection you have with your great, great grandmother to be able to create this story is truly lovely. Thanks Charlotte (and Ian).

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  3. Thank you Cal. I am glad you enjoyed it. Some credit must go to Little Fawn I think. I am sure she was looking over my shoulder when I was writing it!!

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  4. Thank you for this story. It seems to me that it’s a piece of writing to be sensed rather than understood – but interspersed with down-to-earth messages, like ‘there’s good and bad in everyone’, ‘racists are dim’ and ‘animals are not so dim’.
    I looked uo ‘Ojibwe’ and discovered the word means ‘puckered up’, probably a reference to moccasins with a puckered-up seam.

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