One morning, a girl named Lizzy woke up and made a firm decision: Today she would finally take that afternoon stroll in the local park – only this time, through the eyes of J.R Tolkien, J.M Barrie, Michael Ende, and C.S Lewis.
As she entered, she closed both eyes, squeezed them hard and imagined what it must feel like to be Tolkien – to invent one’s own language – to be Lewis at his home, planning a new story while painting and reshaping his dog into a lion, and his cats into half-human-half-horses – and by the time her eyes opened, she saw a glimmer of fairy dust and above all … magic!
Before her feet – by the pond with the colorful flowers, lay a bunch of yellow-white fairies who, one by one, flew out of their egg-nest while blowing soap-bubbles in the air. They all shared a peal of mocking laughter with a sprinkle of evil. What were they laughing at? They were laughing at all the strange humans passing them by every minute with their headphones glued to their ears, never noticing, never listening, never knowing the fairies were there. Now, Lizzy knew. She had noticed.
She then walked a little further and saw coral blue and emerald green mermaids swimming around in the big wide fountain – drinking and gulping up water at each other – giggling and sharing jokes because the fountain did in fact not produce water, but champagne. And no one knew but them.
Then, as the magical fairy dust carried her body further down the screwy path of oaks and willows, she froze – astonished by the sight of branches moving; They were reaching out to each other, sharing a cup of tea with biscuits. The branches had eyes planted to their necks and they talked! And if … one looked close enough, one would be able to see the father of the branches – for the branches were, in fact, children of the bush, belonging to the great, big tree in the middle. He was busy hushing and scolding his mischievous little children for being so awfully loud.
After the brief encounter with the talkative branches, Lizzy’s feet carried her off to the little pond with goldfish. Except, perhaps they were not goldfish .. For, as she came closer and really looked – she spotted something else – and the realization hit her; “Goldfish” is the name they’ve all been given by human beings – they will henceforth forever be perceived this way. But really – they are miniature mermaids, tinted with the holiest of all the colors in Mother Nature; The Rusty Rose.
Inside the reflection of her face (the pond), they were swimming around in a circle of gold … but … were they really swimming?
No. If one looked closer, one could catch a glimpse of the mermaids dancing. “The Ballerina of The Rusty Roses”; A dance so beautiful, so alluring that – if a person stood there for too long – they might bewitch them, making their body freeze to the ground with their eyes forever glued to the little pond.
Then, over to the next fountain; “The King’s Fountain”, Lizzy saw a creme-white castle, planting its feet in the middle of the water – caked with a hundred bell-towers, church-windows and little angles made out of marble; All of the statues that were glued to the castle had now been set free – they were floating on sugar-clouds, singing and sanctifying the richness of Nature. They were pointing their fingers to the talking branches which – in the human’s perception – held the shape of trees standing still, then they pointed to the yellow-white fairies disguised as poppies, the whistling dragons in the shape of birds, the flying warriors, Gods and Goddesses from the Greek Myths – each one bore the mask of little ants and mosquitos. They were addressing all of those things we supposedly “see” every day around us, but don’t … not really.
For what do we really perceive if all we see is but the interpretation society has already given us? Lizzy wondered. What do our eyes behold as we walk through the park with our little devices? Do we see what we see, or what the screen sees? Are our brains infused with the picture our friend just posted? Will we look at the talking branches and only see .. branches? Will we perhaps .. not even look – all we see is nothing but the air around us, mingled with some green and some blue, and the last newsfeed on our phone?
There is much more, she now knew. Nature knows it. And it is laughing at us every day, for not noticing.