Crimson’s Creative Challenge #035

Every Wednesday I’ll post FOUR photos (if you want to get a head start you’ll find them marked in that week’s Sunday Picture Post and Tuesday Treats). Lots of choice!

And here there are:

You respond with something CREATIVE. Perhaps anΒ  answering photo, or micro-fiction, or a poem, or just a caption

As before, there are only two criteria:

!!!!! Your creative offering is indeed yours !!!!!

!!!!! Your writing is kept to 150 words or less !!!!!

If you post a link in the comments section of this post I’ll be able to find it.

Here’s wishing you inspirational explosions. And FUN

Posted in Crimson's Creative Challenge, Photos | Tagged , , | 12 Comments

Tuesday Treats: A Riot of Flowers

A selection of flowers and a few butterflies and other creatures from our walk on 28th April 2025. Enjoy

28th April 2025Β 

Seasonal flowers πŸ”Ό apple blossoms and πŸ”½ ransoms

28th April 2025

28th April 2025Β 

Pretty low-growing flowers: πŸ”Ό Ground ivy and πŸ”½ Forget-me-not

28th April 2025Β 

28th April 2025Β 

πŸ”Ό Alkanet and πŸ”½ Black bug (Ladybird?)

28th April 2025

28th April 2025Β 

πŸ”Ό Cow parsley and πŸ”½ Lords and ladies

28th April 2025

28th April 2025Β 

πŸ”ΌπŸ”½ Wood sorrel and bluebells

28th April 2025

28th April 2025Β 

πŸ”ΌπŸ”½ Bluebells

28th April 2025

28th April 2025Β 

πŸ”Ό Small white butterfly and πŸ”½ Speckled wood

28th April 2025Β 

That’s all for this week. Hope you enjoyed

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Seed Fall Ch17

Chapter Seventeen of my current wip. As before, all and any comments very much appreciated

Please note: This is now a weekly post

Jess woke in a sweat, heart pounding. He wanted to run, to hide, to undo what he had done. Guilty, guilty. He had touched her. GUILTY. The Techs were sure to know and would remove him. Skin him. A most brutal way to die, he couldn’t imagine the pain – didn’t want to imagine it. Rather would he yield to her and thus in her die. But no, he’d no intention of allowing such weakness; he wanted to remain alive.

Again, the memory of yesterday surged through him, his body and mind, to arouse the forbidden in him.

Was she the same female? She wasn’t clad the same, hung about instead with dragon skins. But the eyes and enticing fragrance, they were the same.

She shouldn’t have been there, not that close to the textile farm at Hive Seven. It had been Jess’s last visit of the day, checking out the holos. He had seen her before he landed the flier; he had watched her. So now he knew that holo was working – she had triggered it. Yet, though she’d backed away some paces, she hadn’t fled in fear.

He ought to have remained in the flier, he ought to have waited and watched what she’d do. But nothing as wise as that for Jess, not his style. When would he learn? But this time there would be no restorative refuge with the Fire-keepers on Colabri.

Even before he held her his skin had been deliciously aware of her, as if to a warm pleasing breeze on a cold day. And his hands, he couldn’t control them, seeking flesh beneath those dragon skins, pulling her close and closer still. His body wanted nothing between them, wanted to be surrounded and held in captivity by her alien body. His mind ecstatic, wanted only to die within her and in that moment feel utterly alive. He tried to brush that image away. Yet the memory remained.

She had allowed his touch, yielded to it. At first. Then of a sudden she became as evasive as those legless dragons whose skins she wore, and she was out of his arms and fleeing. He watched her throwing up heels in her haste.

He wanted to follow and would have followed but for a call from behind him. So ensorcelled by the Itamakki Jess had forgotten Eulal and Niapse, the textile operatives that worked the farm. Eulal’s call rescued him from the folly of chasing her.

And now…now he must face the consequences of his heedless stupidity. Removal. Death.

Death, slow and agonising at the hands of the Techs? Or death, rapturous death, enveloped within her? Yet how he could set such an example that his clutch might follow? That would be wrong, more wrong than his touching her, wanting her. But by Pendle’s Dark Staff, he did want to be enfolded within her.

He shook himself out of his self-concerned mood. The problem was no longer his, or not his alone. The problem had ramped to red alert, and he didn’t trust the Techs to deal with it. Was this what had happened on Urgula Teth? He suspected it was. He called Kookka and Joel to his hive. Armar, already there, raised a censorious brow at him.

β€œWe need to talk. As a matter of high priority. Away from ears, eyes, and minds.”

Kookka’s eyes barely squinted, but it was enough for Jess to know what he was thinking. β€œAnother trip out to the islands?”

*

Jess landed the flier on that same black rock, finding a spot away from the breaking waves. As soon as out of the flier he said, β€œWe need to move on that action we postponed, to close the watchers’ eyes.”

β€œWhat’s this about?” Joel asked. He’d not previously been party to this.

β€œJess has proposed we show our inquisitive Techs these islands,” Armar said. β€œThree Techs. Three fliers. Three of us. But, Jess, we agreed not to move on that yet.”

β€œI fear I’ve…set things in motion,” Jess stuttered the words. β€œIt’s too late, I can’t stop it, I can’t refuse it. Perhaps not today, perhaps not tomorrow, but I know it will be. I’ll submit andβ€”you know it’s not what I want. But this, here, now, this isn’t about me. This concerns all of us. Everyone here. The entire clutch. The holos no longer protect us.”

He picked at his nails as he walked away, unsure what else to say.

β€œThis relates to something yesterday?” Armar asked. β€œWhile you were checking the holos around the farms?”

Jess turned back to his companions, an exasperated roll of his eyes. He clasped his hands, high over his chest, almost to his mouth – then whipped them away as again he registered the fresh growth of facial hair. With a deep intake of breath, he exploded, β€œA Pendoling female walked right through it. That shouldn’t happen. She should have stopped, vomited, turned, ran. And what does that vision say? Wretched useless Techs.”

β€œYou mean an Itamakku female?” Armar said.

β€œYea, an Itamakki. Though for all the problems this will cause us, she could have been an evil Pendol spirit.” His hand was back to his mouth, gnawing now on his knuckle. He was aware of how Kookka watched him. Doubtless he thought Jess had regressed to the nursery, suckling at the milk-mother’s teats. But he couldn’t help it, his hands had taken a will of their own.

With determined effort he pulled his hand away. And cursed his head for conjuring visions of the Itamakki, again feeling the weight of her breasts found beneath her dragon skins. His body responded. He walked away so his companions wouldn’t guess what was happening beneath his clothes; not yet triggered they wouldn’t understand. He wanted her, wanted to die in the bliss of her. His face was afire, betraying those desires that he could not, must not, would not admit to them. Yet surely he’d said enough that they must already know

β€œAnd she walked straight through the holo-vision as if it wasn’t there?” Armar asked. β€œMaybe it wasn’t working, and she didn’t see it.”

Jess turned back. β€œNo, she saw it. She hesitated, spoke some words, then walked directly to me as if…as if that vision was nothing to her.”

β€œOr meeting you was more important?” Joel suggested.

β€œJoel has a point,” Kookka agreed. β€œWhat did she suppose you to be? Not an Itamakki.”

β€œA god?” Joel suggested.

Armar scoffed at that. β€œLike, these Itamakku know about the Animosphere? That’s the stuff of Techs.”

β€œAnd?” Joel answered. β€œDo we know what the Techs have done to them? What they might have given them with their modifications? Though we can’t see the gods, maybe like the Techs these Itamakku can.”

Again, Kookka agreed with Joel.

β€œDoes it matter? I touched her,” Jess uttered in horror. β€œIf I succumb to this, then I’m destined to mate and to die. But that’s mine to deal with. And so too is the other problem. Don’t you see what I’m saying? The holos don’t hold the Itamakku away. Everyone – every one of us – is at risk. To be within distance is to effect the change. Is this what happened on Urgula Teth? And did the Techs eradicate the entire breeding pool? We can’t allow that to happen here. The Techs must not know about this…this…this potential breach.”

Kookka nodded. β€œPut like that, I can see that you’re right. Whatever’s the truth of the Techs’ real scheme—”

β€œThe GM programme is only a cover,” Joel said.

β€œBut what are they doing that they need such a cover?” Armar asked.

β€œBeyond me,” Kookka said. β€œAs Joel says, they harvest Monza Imms from Adamzal to work the mineral mines of Kreegirn.”

β€œOnly from Adamzal?” Armar said.

Kookka shrugged. β€œI’m supposing with the demise of our breeding females, there are no more Monza births.”

β€œThat’s it!” Jess exclaimed. β€œIt’s obvious. Their GM Programme isn’t to benefit us. It’s purely to ensure a continuous supply of Imms for their mines. Hybrid Imms.”

β€œBut Adamzal—”

β€œNo, Joel,” Jess cut in. β€œBecause Adamzal can’t supply enough. And there’s something else.” Jess raised a hand as if that helped him order his thoughts. β€œI’ve now sat through six briefings as a zem, and I should have noticed this but…not thinking. I know the Techs chose those planets for the indigenous species, their fitness for the Programme, but it’s odd, very odd, that they all have oceans. Wide-spreading oceans.”

He remembered then his visit to the Nexus Yeho, his blue-hued room, the walls that showed an ever-rolling seascape beneath a blue cloudless sky. The very air in that room smelled and tasted of the sea.

β€œI think this Programme’s true purpose has something to do with the sea.” He shivered, a tell that he’d hit on a truth. β€œYea, and that’s all very well, but knowing their purpose doesn’t help with our problem. The holos no longer protect our clutch. The Itamakku can walk straight through them. Which means sooner or later we’re all going to change – to become mature Monzas, not only able to breed with those Itamakku, but desperately wanting to.” Overwhelmingly driven, but he didn’t add that. β€œThen what?”

β€œBut the Techs will skin any trespassers.” Armar’s disapproval of that act both deepened and flattened his voice.

β€œAnd us,” Jess added. β€œWe’ve already said it, the Techs will be in control of the…the mixing of genes. They’ll not take kindly to mature Monzas openly mating with the Itamakku. I’m sure that’s what happened on Urgula Teth and that’s why they abandoned their Programme there. We can’t have that happening here. We have to stop them.”

β€œYea,” Kookka said. β€œBut how?”

β€œAs I’ve already proposed,” Jess said. β€œWe bring them here, take the fliers and leave them stranded.”

β€œFor how long?” Armar asked the obvious, but no one answered,

β€œWe must have no thought in our heads of this,” Jess said. β€œThe Techs will find it and negate us. But here’s my idea, our cover story. We’ve found an anomaly which needs their inspection. That’s what we’ve been doing here, our several trips out. Now, unable to explain the anomaly, we’ll refer it to them.”

β€œWhat sort of an anomaly?” Armar could always be trusted to look deeper. β€œFlora, fauna? Geological?”

β€œWater,” the answer zoomed into Jess’s head. β€œMaybe something to do with the sea?”

β€œFine. But what?” Armar pushed.

Jess pointed to where the sea was crashing over the rocks. β€œYou see how the waves send spouts of water through those fissures? What if the incoming waves were salty – which we know they are – but that splash was fresh drinkable water? Would that be anomaly enough to fetch their interest?”

To be continued
I thank you for reading and invite your comments

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Sunday Picture Post: East Hills Wood

28th April 2025, sun is beaming, wind has calmed, so it’s back to Costessey for our second visit to a bluebell wood. But first a short riverside walk. Please join us

28th April 2025

πŸ”Ό We jump off the bus at the park, home of the local football team. Memories of watching the game whilst sheltering from the sun beneath this grand old beech tree

28th April 2025

πŸ”Ό The river Tud runs alongside that park πŸ”½

28th April 2025

28th April 2025

πŸ”Ό We’ve timed our visit exactly right for the ransoms (wild garlic). πŸ”½ I love this view of these bridges, the old and the new

28th April 2025

28th April 2025

πŸ”Ό Along a lane and then into the woods πŸ”½ ⏬

28th April 2025

28th April 2025

A tree we named the Giant’s Knee πŸ”½

28th April 2025

28th April 2025

28th April 2025

⏫ Yes, it is a bluebells wood but I confess the trees enchant me more ⏬

28th April 2025

28th April 2025

That’s all for now. It’s been a difficult selection (I took 300+ photos). Don’t miss Tuesday Treats for a riot of flowers

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No More Ranting

image credit: Isa Karakus on pixabay

Rosie climbing the hillsides
Puffing and panting
No more ranting
Not got the breath


14 words written for Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Breath

Posted in Poems (Some Silly) | Tagged , | 13 Comments

CCC034: Spirit of the Woodland

Spirit of the woodland, me
Though I don’t reside in any tree
Rather would I be
Like a butterfly or bee
That flits from flower to flower
Throughout every woodland bower
And as I fly I never do tarry
But with me always carry
To cut away the dead and withering, a pruning knife
And seeds to sow to ensure a constant thrum of new life

Posted in Crimson's Creative Challenge, Photos, Poems (Some Silly) | Tagged , , , | 20 Comments

Crimson’s Creative Challenge #034

Every Wednesday I’ll post FOUR photos (if you want to get a head start you’ll find them marked in that week’s Sunday Picture Post and Tuesday Treats). Lots of choice!

And here there are:

You respond with something CREATIVE. Perhaps anΒ  answering photo, or micro-fiction, or a poem, or just a caption

As before, there are only two criteria:

!!!!! Your creative offering is indeed yours !!!!!

!!!!! Your writing is kept to 150 words or less !!!!!

If you post a link in the comments section of this post I’ll be able to find it.

Here’s wishing you inspirational explosions. And FUN

Posted in Crimson's Creative Challenge, Photos | Tagged , , | 14 Comments

Tuesday Treats: Late April Flowers

A selection of the delightful flowers we found during our walk on 23rd April 2025 . Enjoy

23rd April 2025

πŸ”Ό Bluebells, newly out and only now beginning to droop their heads in true English fashion πŸ”½

23rd April 2025

23rd April 2025

Two woodland dreams πŸ”Ό Wood anemone and πŸ”½ Wood sorrel

23rd April 2025

23rd April 2025

Wayside flowers: πŸ”Ό Spring beauty and πŸ”½ Cranesbill

23rd April 2025

23rd April 2025

πŸ”Ό No introduction needed here

23rd April 2025

Two shrubs with fruits you’d probably be wise not to eat: πŸ”Ό Flowering currant and πŸ”½ Bird cherry

23rd April 2025

23rd April 2025

Marsh and wetland flowers: πŸ”Ό Marsh marigold and πŸ”½ Red currant

23rd April 2025

And this last one, alas, it’s name I don’t know!

23rd April 2025

I’ve held back on the many photos I took of bluebells. Mostly because there were so many other flowers. But I promise you more of those next week

I hope you enjoyed.

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Seed Fall Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen of my current wip. As before, all and any comments very much appreciated

Please note: This is now a weekly post

Hunger rattled Cela-Byi. But she was not to eat until she had met with the star-spirit Kija. And to meet with the star-spirit she must climb to a high place. But what if the place she went to was the wrong place?

Three days now she’d been climbing, keeping a far distance from the hill-dows: Robi-dow where the spirit-mother crab had given life to Li-Kerbi’s father, and Greal-dow whence had come the mother of the sacrificed Tammi-Tiki. She doubted any there would recognise her, even those who’d begun life in Toki-dow, not while she wore these dragon skins. They encircled her neck and shoulders and her hips, draping her like the sorrowful leaves of a wind battered tree. Li-Kerbi, now named Cela-Byi, as all could see.

She hadn’t known when first she set out that these mountains were threaded through with innumerable valleys. But of course, it must be so, for the hill-dows weren’t set atop the mountain ridges. She followed a trail – made by hunters or by the hunted? But it was a trail and how else to make her way through this otherwise trackless sea of trees. And it must go somewhere, even if it wasn’t where she wanted to go. Besides, on a trail she could see ahead, and behind, and some distance to either side, less likely to fall prey to a stalking cat. And neither would her feet disoblige a basking legless dragon. Though she supposed if she’d been reborn to spirit-mother Byi, she had the spirit-dragon’s protection. That gave her courage.

The trail dipped through a sudden stand of trees, more densely grown than those she’d seen these past three days. Behind her the way was clear, no danger there. She checked to either side. Was that to south and north? She’d lost her sense of direction after encountering a fallen tree on the second day’s climb. Unable to pass it, she’d had to double back and take a new trail that branched from the first. But left and right, south and north, no suggestion of danger there. With an enheartening breath she walked on.

As she emerged from the trees there stood a giant, a woman, and not a shred of skin on her red glistening body.

Cela-Byi screamed, fist to her mouth. Yet the giant made no move towards her. It wasn’t a danger, merely a terrible sight. With several deep breaths she regained her composure and swallowed hard, eyes fixed on that sight. It was gross. It was wrong. It wasn’t like a flayed deer or a pig, prepared for the cook-fire. And where were the flies? There were none.

She took five steps back. The giant dissolved into the air.

Cela-Byi blinked. Rubbed her eyes. Squinted, Turned her head to every angle. But could find no lingering trace of that giant.

Lower lip held tight between her teeth, Cela-Byi turned around. But to retrace her steps would take her back to where last she’d seen a branch in the trail, disregarding the branch that led to the fallen tree. Three days the ancestors had said, and this was the third day. She couldn’t go back.

She brought up her hand to gnaw on her nails, though this wasn’t a habit of hers. Gnawing helped her regain calm while she thought. The sacrificed boy, Tammi-Tiki, had been found stripped of skin, a message from the star-spirit Kija, so Cela-Kuci said. This skinned giant woman on the trail ahead must also be a message from that same star-spirit. And that message was for her. Then she must go forward. Maybe the giant would tell her where to find the star-spirit.

The giant appeared again. This time Cela-Byi held her place and didn’t flee. This time, with much bolstering talk in her head, she kept her composure. I am not afraid, I am born to Byi spirit-mother, the dragon-spirit protects me.

β€œThis place is for spirits and gods,” the giant said in a voice that seemed to arise in every direction. β€œNo Itamakku walk here.”

Cela-Byi stepped back, arms slammed across her chest, jaw set firm. She’d known to seek the spirits wasn’t wise, that it could be frightening, dangerous, life destroying. But she was a cela now, a spirit-woman, and the star-spirit Kija had summoned her. She must go on.

β€œI thank you,” she said to the horrible apparition. β€œFor this is the very place that I seek.”

And if proof were needed that the giant was from the spirit world, as Cela-Byi walked towards it that red-fleshed giant disappeared.

*

Beyond that dark stand of trees, the trail widened and merged with the grazed grasses of an open place. Indistinct in the mist-veiled distance was a scatter of buildings, seeming in shape most unlike any the Itamakku used. But before Cela-Byi was near enough to see them properly, a falling star dazzled her. She brought her hands to cover her rapidly blinking eyes. And once she’d recovered her wits she queried that sight. A falling star in the day-time sky?

Never. It wasn’t a star, not with eyes. Two eyes. The strangest thing Cela-Byi had ever seen. But a spirit-woman, such visions might be granted her now. She sank to her knees, exhausted in the awe of it. And a new vision appeared before her now. The star-spirit Kija. Her chest swelled with a hitherto unknown emotion, and she nigh swooned away.

He stared at her, a most unlikely deer. More like an Itamakku man – except his colouring wasn’t the same and he wore the deer’s yellow colour.

Was she to speak first? Might she ask what his message? Or must she wait until he said. She sank back onto her heels, her knees beginning to hurt.

When he still didn’t speak but merely looked, she gathered her courage and asked as she’d been told to ask, β€œMy people wish to know what you want with us. Have we offended in some way? Our many apologies if we have. What further sacrifices must we make?” She hoped she wasn’t to be named as one.

He spoke. But it seemed this spirit didn’t speak Itamakkuese.

She held out her hands in helpless mime.

He approached. And such a warmth oozed from him as if he were preparing her for bed. Her body responded, eager for union with this deer-spirit. Beneath the dragon skins her body glowed, her breath shallow, rapid, wondrous. She rose to her feet. He held out his hand.

She hesitated to take it lest, like the giant, he disappeared.

Again, he spoke, his sun-streaked eyes holding hers so she couldn’t look away.

Continues next Monday

Please, your comments would be so much appreciated

Posted in Fantasy Fiction, Mythic Fiction | Tagged , , , | 8 Comments

Sunday Picture Post: Green Hills

23rd April 2025 and its bluebell season; we’ve three bluebell woods to visit during the coming weeks. We start with our annual pilgrimage to where once we lived. It’s a double bus ride, there, then back. But the weather is fair (not dazzling sunshine but warmish and not raining either). Please join us on our walk through the Green Hills Woods and beyond

23rd April 2025

πŸ”Ό At the start of the woods, before we climb hills. Really, it’s only one hill but we tend to zigzag up and down it πŸ”½

23rd April 2025

23rd April 2025

πŸ”Ό While bluebells really are delightful, they do reflect the light making it almost impossible to capture their deep purplish-blue πŸ”½

23rd April 2025

23rd April 2025

23rd April 2025

23rd April 2025

πŸ”Ό Once upon a time atop this hill was a small pine plantation, but that was cleared about ten years ago encouraging a renewal of forgotten treasures πŸ”½

23rd April 2025

23rd April 2025

πŸ”Ό We leave the woods and follow a farm-lane to where the river Tud flows through a now flooded, one-time gravel diggings

23rd April 2025

πŸ”Ό The old bridge over the Tud, and a newer one πŸ”½

23rd April 2025

23rd April 2025

πŸ”Ό My most favourite river, delight of the local children. And one of the flooded gravel pits which vegetation has long since reclaimed πŸ”½

23rd April 2025

And alas, we come to the end. Time to catch our bus.

23rd April 2025

Hope you enjoyed and that you haven’t yet tired of bluebells because. I think I might be saving the best till last

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