Author: transittransientsandother

I have been driving for Metro for about two and a half years now, Love this job. Driving has always been fun for me, and adding on the parade of people on a daily basis in a large beautiful city like Seattle, is the extra foam on my macchiato, Thanks for dropping by…. I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I do writing them

Wandering Tortoise and the ripple across the Pond

Wandering Tortoise continued his walk into the Ancient Forest.

He made his way through the ground growth, fallen tree’s, aging bushes seemed to offer a path that those who looked.

The air rich in forest smells, and the air seemed wet to breath, pleasant, He inhaled deeply, he thought he could almost feel the air enter his veins.

The scent was rich, dense “almost like food” he thought.

The light was interesting as well, like no single source, just from above that could make it through the thick branches above.

He listened to the slight rumble of a creek.

He walked towards it, listening to the ravens, crows and insects. The occasional scamper of another squirrel.

He climbed over a couple of fallen trees, ducked under some brambles and found himself next to the creek.

Slow moving, deeper than he had expected and it fed a small pool before it formed into a creek again and on down a hill.

He sat at the edge of the pool and pulled out some dried meat and began to enjoy the coolness of the pond, the slight rumble it shared and he watched dragonflies catch gnats on frog lilies and zoom back and forth.

They began to clear away from the pond, and he noticed the forest had become oddly quiet.

There were no more birds flying above, there were no sounds or scolding Squirrel people

Just silence.

Odd he thought as he listened to his breath.

“I’ve been expecting you Wandering Tortoise”

Said a gruff old voice.

Wandering Tortoise looked around and realized the voice hadn’t come from a particular direction, but from inside his head.

So odd he thought.

It said again,

“Wandering Tortoise”

“I’m here” he answered, “who is there?”

“They call me, Tashgooka”

“Tashgooka, where are you?” asked Wandering Tortoise.

Then the voice came to his ears from across the pond.

Tashgooka appeared on a log that he had sworn was just a broken stump a minute before.

Tashgooka was huge, Hairy, in fact, all hair, like a bear would be furred.

His face was somehow human, not quite, but certainly not bear.

“ I have not seen your people before Tashgooka, is this your home or are you like me, a Wanderer?.

“My people are not like yours, this is my home, and I wander, everywhere I go is home.

Which is why we are speaking today and I have allowed you to see me.

My people knew this day was coming and our people’s should speak.”

“Are you the first people’s the Squirrel just told me about?”

“That is one way to put it” answered Tashgooka,

“We have been here since the Mother was first created.

We have been here as longer than the bear, longer than the wolves, longer than the Oysters in your shores”

Wandering Tortoise could not imagine what came before Oysters, or the Animals, but wanted to accept Tashgookas word.

“I am glad to talk to you Tashgooka,

I have so many questions, first, how did you know my name, and

How did you come to expect me and I’m curious what your people wish to know about us.?”

“ I will keep our encounter short Wandering Tortoise he said.

Our people are concerned about you and your place with the Mother,

We disagree with the creator for your existence.”

Taken aback by such a statement, Wandering Tortoise answered.

He made sure there was no anger or defense in his voice.

“The Creator has wisdom in all things, every creature has a place and in his mind a purpose”

Tashgooka answered with slow gentle tone to his voice:

“We agree all creatures have purpose, and they do so without question, they do so with full acceptance of who they are and how they conduct their lives.

Their spirits are strong, They do not live one life externally, and one life internally.

Wandering Tortoise had never been confronted with this thought before.

“please explain” asked Wandering Tortoise.

Tashgooka was silent for a moment,

Then explained.

“your people have structures to your worship of the great spirit.

Ceremonies, tools and artwork.

For you your spirit is an activity, a separation from your living in the moment.

All other animals do not need such methods, they are, as they are, connected to the great spirit, and the Mother.

Art is not necessary, separation of spirit is not necessary

And because you have a separation of the spirit, you see art as a function that is similar to your spirit.

And it is here that your existence, puts the Mother at risk as well as all other creatures”

“Tashgooka,”

Wandering Tortoise answered

Then he lingered with the thought.

He wanted to understand what this creature was saying.

Tashgooka was silent and just gazed at him with no expectation of a response.

“We have much to talk about Tashgooka,

You seem to know about us and how we think, but we know nothing about you and your methods or thoughts”

“Wandering Tortoise Tashgooka said.

I do not wish to share much more than this,

Heed my words, consider them, know that I am part of this forest, part of the Mother and have reason to share this information with you.

“ You are a very confusing creature answered Wandering Tortoise,

He watched a breeze ripple it’s way across the Pond, then looked back

Tashgooka was gone, no stump now, just gone.

Sounds started to return to the forest.

Birds were flying, the dragonflies returned.

Wandering Tortoise breathed in the air.

How am I going to share this with my people?

And what exactly were his thoughts.

Wandering Tortoise turned back to the way he came.

He made a sound that scolded the Squirrel.

Wandering Tortoise Meets the Squirrel

Wandering Tortoise found himself deep into a part of the forest he had never been to before.

It’s scent thick with

Moss and ferns, large trunks of Cedar Giants by any measure he had seen seemed to be grown with bushes of Ivy’s at their base.

Thick branches with their cones ready to drop with seed.

It was a place where it was difficult to determine the time of day,

As the heavy branches filtered the light and the fauna seemed soaked with wetness.

Sounds engulfed the air with creatures of all types living in branches, the ground cover, skipping and hopping to branches.

Crow’s and Raven, Woodpeckers and the small ones busy carrying Nesting supplies and catching insects.

A surprised squirrel scolded him as it ran from the ground then up the tree next to him.

The Squirrel stopped it’s scolding and spoke to him.

Human, you are standing where you should not.

Have you not heard of this place?

“Squirrel”, Wandering Tortoise replied;

“This is the farthest I have journeyed from my Village.

I find this as beautiful of an area as the Creator has made.”

“Human, the Squirrel replied;

This forest has been here Eons before you were conceived of by the Creator.”

“That would explain the size of these Cedars” said Wandering Tortoise.

“This is home to the first peoples of the Forest.

The ones that came before you, and will most likely be here after your people have left our Mother,”

“Leave our Mother Earth? Asked Wandering Tortoise, He could not imagine what the Squirrel meant.

Nor could he imagine what other people he was talking about, he had never come across other humans in his travels,

Just peoples of other villages.

“I offer this advice” Squirrel said,

“Listen to the Hairy people, they are protectors of the forest and have been here longer than even the Squirrel people know”

With those words spoken, the Squirrel headed up the Giant Cedar, scampered across branches and out of sight.

What an interesting fellow thought Wandering Tortoise.

I had no idea there were humans before the creator sent us here.

I’ve never been lied to by any creature; they have no reason to lie to humans.

However, it seme’s to me that if there were others before us. We would have known by now.

Wandering Tortoise realized long ago the Creator with all his imagination and ability could never be understood.

And with that thought held in his mind was all the Justification for all that surrounded him.

Accepting whatever the Great Spirit offered, new or strange.

Was the reason he was here on the Mother Earth.

He clicked his tongue to make a sound as similar to the Squirrel as he could.

Letting the Squirrel people know that he was thanking them for their advice.

Stepping from Oysters

So Man stepped out of the Oyster and cleared his eyes, as he looked to the sky. He asked the Great Creator:
Why?

In the early days of the Salish Sea,
Where Man had been delivered to the Oyster host, by the Eagle and Raven, and had been visited by the creatures of the Forest and of the Sea, who shared their stories and wisdom and the Humans began to learn how to be Human.
From these stories and wisdom Man had become very powerful and they kept the names of the nature of the wisdom of the creatures who they felt taught them the most.
Bear, Eagle, Elk, Raven.
No Animal was left off the list as they all brought the power of their nature and those that can speak to their spirit animals.
Frogs, Salamander, and Dragonfly all share a unique understanding of this world.
So Man stepped out of the Oyster and cleared his eyes as he looked at the sky.
He asked the Great Creator:
Why?
A wind picked up from the Sea behind him and blew past him into the trees ahead of him in the forest, and in the branches and leaves shaking, he could hear:
“It is man’s task to see the world for what it is.
To see the world with all who live in it.
To be inclusive
To be ever moving”.
To be ever moving, the man thought.
This is a phrase that needs to be understood.
as moving doesn’t necessarily mean in transit, as our spirits do not remain in the physical world.
We experience life contrapuntally.
Meaning life has two or more melodic lines.
And it is the complexity of harmonies that each man brings to our contrapuntal movement.
And thus the need to understand the wisdom of our brothers.
He listened to the wind in the forest move on past the shore, fading as it moved up the mountain.
There were clouds around the summit of the hills.
Crows, woodpeckers, and hummingbirds visit berry bushes on a cliff.
Waves washing the stones and sand around his bare feet and felt the coolness of the water.
He reached for the Human next to him, that had just stepped from her Oyster, they grasped each others hand.
They moved forward onto the beach.
Walking to the forest, they looked back to the Sea,
An Orca splashed its tailfin as it dove,
Seagulls dived for small fish.
They continued their path to the forest as they noticed the other humans stepping from Oysters.

Snap Dragons and Foxglove

With the beginning of Summer, Snap Dragons have bloomed among the wild grass, dandelions, fox glove, rosemary, and junipers that grow wild along the freeway greenbelts, abandoned curbs, empty lots, and ignored sidewalk passes.

With the beginning of Summer, Snap Dragons have bloomed among the wild grass, dandelions, fox glove, rosemary, and junipers that grow wild along the freeway greenbelts, abandoned curbs, empty lots, and ignored sidewalk passes.
As the days have longered, the rain has lessened the grass browns against the vivid pink and purple of the Snaps and Fox.
Dandelions from yellow to soft white parachutes, rosemary, and junipers sage green of pines and cedars, flies, and bees.
Such a serene side story of tents and tarps,
white, blue, and green.
Tossed clothes, socks, t-shirts, and jeans.
Empty bottles and bags of stuff opened to spread their innards across the cement and bending brown grass, bending Snaps, Fox.
A woman and man stand at their bent pole tent door,
she’s in a blue t-shirt and jeans, and she has blond hair that has browned since its last wash.
He wears a black tank top and jeans and is waving his hands at the woman.
Their faces are angry,
purple, and pink, like Snaps and Fox.

Falling Pine Cone

“Grandfather, tell me a story; I want to hear the first story you heard.”

The Grandson tugged at his grandfather’s shirt sleeve.
“Grandfather, tell me a story; I want to hear the first story you heard.”
The Grandfather sat down next to his grandson and said listen well.
My Grandfather shared this with me, so I will share it with you.
The grandson smiled as he sat back in his chair.
“It was the early days when creatures were teaching us to be human.
High above the forest, just a forest of so many forests,
a Raven was gliding, seeing and taking in the hills and so many trees, and on those trees, so many branches and, as it was spring, so many pine cones.
The Raven began to glide to one of those branches, and a pine cone dropped as he landed.
The Raven watched the Pine cone bounce off other branches as it made its way to the ground.
There were other cones that also let go after being hit.
They landed on the ground and joined the other pine cones that surrounded the Pine tree amongst the fallen and now red needles and dirt and roots.
The Raven tilted its head,
Curious that pine cones fall
and thought,
They are like stories; they let go of where they were and take their stories with them to where they are now.
The Raven took off in flight again, soaring above the forest. Just another forest of so many, with so many branches and so many pine cones.
Above those forests, there were more Ravens flying from branch to branch and cones letting go of where they were and taking their stories with them to where they are now.
And the Forest floor was covered with red needles and pine cones”.
The Grandfather and Grandson sat in silence while a Raven flew by the window, then landed on a pine tree in the yard.

Cassin Finch

Made my way to the front door. The finch was sitting on the storage box, squinting its eye at me.
“Good Morning,” I greeted,
It chirped an exclamated cuss word at me as it flew out the front door and over my head.

An Early Saturday Morning,
walking out to my assigned bus under the pink glow of TMOBILE Stadium. I saw a fluttering behind the windshield of 7024.
It settled down onto the steering wheel.
We looked each other in the eye,
its little beak tilted, and its eyes seemed to squint at me.
I began to open the side window, which made the little finch flutter again and fly to the back of the bus.
I reached through the window, started the engine and, opened both doors, continued my inspection around the coach.
Made my way to the front door. The finch was sitting on the storage box, squinting its eye at me.
“Good Morning,” I greeted,
It chirped an exclamated cuss word at me as it flew out the front door and over my head.
I uttered back to it,
“Stuck in a bus all night is no place for you”!
I quickly lost sight of that Cassin as it fluttered back to its freedom of sparse trees, brush, and freeway underpasses.
I searched for droppings, just one near the rear door.

My second run of 106 was quite a bit busier than average.
A woman in her 30s entered the bus very thin, worn jeans, faded green hoody, tennis shoes with holes, no socks. Clearly high on some kind of nonweed substance, but she was keeping to herself and quietly sat down about mid-bus, put her head between her knees, and began to sleep.
I checked on her when I reached the last stop in Chinatown.
She was out. I did manage to wake her, let her know where we were. She wanted to sleep. “OK, but you’ll have to exit the bus when we reach Renton” I let her have her sleep and made my way to the layover, then began my 3rd run.
When we reached Renton, she was still out but, after several attempts, did respond to my loud voice.
She wouldn’t leave, I let her know she needed to or I would have to call this in, “Do you need medical attention”?
No, she said,
Mam, I have to ask you to leave. We need to take this bus back on the routes, and you can no longer stay.
” I need a DR, she said.
Mam, I’ll call that in if you do need medical attention. They will make sure you get off the bus.
She faked going back to sleep.
I called it in,
let TCC know she asked for medical attention, but I had my doubts,
He sternly let me know they take medical requests seriously,
“OK, she asked,” I said.
Shortly both the police and fire department arrived,
asked her if they could help her, she declined medical attention.
“We can’t do anything if she declines help.”
the responder said.
The police took her by the shoulders and removed her from the bus.
I quickly closed the door as she tried to re-enter.
Her head was down, looking defeated and confused in my right mirror as I pulled away.
Later that evening, taking my walk through Lincoln Park, listening to birds being busy with their mating and territory calls, fluttering and settling in amongst branches of Cedars, Pine, and Alders.
Walking on Dirt trails between duos and singles found their way through the crowd. We were all wrapped in coats and scarves, knit hats hiding foreheads, cell phones being held to ears.
It was a crowd moving and in mid-stride to their collective destinations.
The Sun began to rest on the slow blue horizon
the crowd’s shadows were long, then disappearing while the sky turned grey.
Waves on the shore kissed rocks and sand
another Cassin Finch flew by my head and cussed a squeak.
I thought of my rearview mirror, a figure, thin,
head down, quiet with no movement, her shadow on the pavement beginning to shorten as the sunlight was above her.