In such a way did the black giant of Tarn Wethelan find release, and the grim lady of the moor win the White Hawk: and of her he was as glad as grass would be of rain.
A quote from “Tarn Wethlan” in Alan Garner’s Collected Folktales, published in 2010.
(Read Neil Gaiman’s review at http://www.theguardian.com/books/2011/dec/14/collected-folk-tales-garner-review)
I started this post with the last line of Garner’s version of the Arthurian legend about the marriage of Sir Gawaine and the Lady Ragnal, a tale I tell myself. I am intrigued by this author’s point of view. I have always loved Garner’s voice; this turn of phrase … and of her he was as glad as grass is of rain… made me wonder about rain, how weather effects us all, and why I don’t mention it much in my storytelling …
This legend is set on St Stephen’s-tide, the day after Christmas. I imagined the December weather In Northumberland. Hard frost, hills blanketed in snow, biting wind , icicles on walls, … all this seemed such a dream in the Tropics. Here, on Boxing Day, the grass in my yard was parched. It was 40C and baking hot and we were desperate for rain.
…and of her he was as glad as grass is of rain…
I kept a weather eye open as I worked steadily moving on from room to room inside the house, sweat dripping from me, The crack of a lightning bolt came as a surprise. I looked out,
The weather had turned, the heavens finally opened with a tropical storm full of thunder, flashes of light, cracking close by and the glorious warm drenching of rain.
What a relief when it rains!
Later, as I wandered in the garden, I wondered … was she as sweet on him as honeysuckle after rain?
How glad is grass, really, after rain?
Does it luxuriate in the sun and go wild?
What’s left behind after rain? What pondering, playful drops?
Here’s to rain! Happy New Year! Health, joy and enough rain to keep you going and growing!
Stories Twigs … by Meg is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
