CRONE TALES

THE GOSSAMER QUEEN, a fairy tale for falling into wonder

March 10, 2021 /

Bells toll and a bright wind blows. There is more going on, unseen, than is commonly known. Spiders weave delicate threads on a sleeping face. A river flows. A crone walks alongside the waters between this life and another, crooning a tale which others dare not speak or quite believe. Come, listen.

You’re invited to make what meaning you will.

 

 

There once was a queen who had lived many years and found herself besieged by dread in the early winter of her life.

“It’s only downhill from here,” said the queen. “This won’t end on a good note.” But she was hushed and patted on the hand and brought fine wine to drink.

She spent her days upon the throne, with the people seemingly revering her though she no longer made decisions on her own. Never was she allowed to walk outside the castle which could best be described as a clump of towers beside a perilous waterfall and churning river. This made for a misted land painted in greys and greens, which as you know calls for dragons.

The queen often peered from her tower window at a silver river dragon which had taken to dwelling in the emerald waters beneath the waterfall. Know this. Rather than fire, river dragons breathe ice. This is how the queen’s people came to shiver in fear of a bitter winter coming.   

“Why has this river dragon come to our green land?” asked the people. “What magic can soothe us now?”   

The queen contemplated the silvered dragon. How she envied the creature. She supposed a dragon must be a true beast of Life itself, so very alive and strong and not at all worried about bad endings.

One night the queen stood at her open castle window and wished upon a star. “If only my life could end on a good note…” she said and then went to bed to begin a fitful sleep.

Doing the star’s bidding, faeries of the wind entered the royal bedchamber and wrapped the queen in gossamer.

Morning came. The queen woke and sat up in her bed to take her breakfast. But upon entry to the royal bedchamber, a servant dropped the tray of the usual green pea juice and lettuce.  

“The queen is dead!” howled the servant and ran away. This is when the queen caught sight of her reflection in a mirror. She beheld her gossamer wrapping.  

“Would you look at that,” said the queen. And she was sheer amazed. She spent the day roaming the castle searching for mirrors. As her new attire was so intriguing, it was hard to be disconcerted even as everyone about her set to screaming.

“Surely,” thought the queen come evening, “the jig will be up when they realize I cannot pass through solid things.”

She deliberately threw herself against walls, but all that happened come morning was talk about the queen who goes bump in the night.

With no one willing to return her to the useless throne, the queen did as she pleased. She became like an orphaned child and tottered herself right out of the castle and down to the fearsome tumbling river, something she’d not done in years.  

The queen lifted her ghostly face to the waterfall mists. The gossamer wrapped around her head, so she couldn’t see properly and went to step into the deep pool of green water churning beneath the waterfall.

The river dragon, silver-scaled and aglow, opened one eye and recognized the queen’s peril. It snorted from one nostril. Bubbles floated up and turned to ice. This made a cobbled if slippery path upon the surface of the river to tread upon, and the queen’s frail arms windmilled as she tried to keep her balance.

“Our dead queen is beckoning us into the river that ends in death,” wailed the people. For they knew the river flowed to the very edge of the tilted plate that was the earth. From there one went over. Into what, no one knew.

Hearing their terror, the queen tried to speak. Yet the gossamer wrapped over her mouth made words impossible. She could only moan, and this convinced the last disbelievers that she was indeed dead as dead can be.  

“Perhaps if they see me sink, they will know I’m not a ghost,” the queen reasoned and threw herself into the river.

She sank to the dusky depths and found herself eye to gossamered eye with the silvered dragon. Water sifted through the ghostly mesh over her mouth and nose and began to spill into her lungs.

The river dragon yawned a freezing breath. Before a royal drowning could fully take place, a block of ice formed to encase the gossamered queen. 

She floated up, up, up like a fishing cork. The queen breached the surface of the river and came down with an impressive splash upon its misted surface.   

The people marveled at the sight of their queen preserved in a coffin of crystal-clear ice. Fools that they were, they did nothing to retrieve her. Instead they chatted and watched with wide eyes as she twirled in her icebox, caught in the swirling eddies.   

“I shall never, ever wish upon a star again,” thought the frozen and gossamered queen. “This is all going downhill even faster than I expected.” And she felt full betrayed. Yet here is the truth. The star loved the queen and offered her a storied fate.

For everyone loves a sleeping beauty.

Winter came and as expected, the river dragon climbed dripping from the emerald river to breathe a fierce freeze over the verdant land. Snow drifted to weigh heavy upon the capped castle towers. The waterfall dried into icicle drapes.

The grey mist vanished in mere hours.

A brilliant winter sun shone down upon the icy coffin which spun in the river eddies. The currents simply would not take the queen away, much to the people’s discomfort and dismay.

And so, the gossamered queen stared up through frozen, open eyes to witness a most extraordinary thing.

Faeries on the wind.

Their cheeky faces took shape on brisk gales. Stubby paint brushes tipped their wings which—prettily—fluttered to resemble a butterfly’s powdered sails.

The faeries painted the world however they pleased, not only in greys and misted greens. Colors which the queen had never seen came to be. And for the first time ever in her grown-up life, she expected that unbelievable magic must happen with ease after all. 

This meant she could be wrong about the certainty of a great many scary and serious things.

Wonder struck. It happened with such grace, like a child tumbling with delight as she rolls downhill.

An old woman’s laughter rocked her icy coffin and loosed it from the eddies. She flowed. The river upon the tilted plate of the earth carried her to the edge, and she spilled over into

she-knew-not-what

while a lovely last note played. 

She fell with no effort whatsoever into wings tipped in paint-dipped brushes. 

 

Everyone loves a sleeping beauty, and sleeping beauties always wake. 

 

EPILOGUE

After this, the queen fluttered and colored the land and river downhill from the castle in hues the people never knew existed, and in quiet moments they got a peek of an astonishing palette. To give such inevitable glimpses of Bursting Beauty is the purpose of every queen’s open hand.

This is true whether her reach encompasses heaven, a castle, or even a modest cottage upon a patch of land.     

 

“In the depths of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.” Albert Camus

“Don’t be afraid. There are exquisite things in store for you. This is merely the beginning.” Oscar Wilde

If you felt soothed by this little story and wish to be well-acquainted with Wonder, I hope you SUBSCRIBE TO CRONE TALES. They are freely given.

Pretty please leave a comment below so I can know your thoughts or feelings on this fairy tale! What do you think of the Crone turning Sleeping Beauty into Bursting Beauty? 

Image Credits

Featured image of castle by Jasmine

Ghostly queen in mirror by Gilbert

Dragon eye by Chirstonna

Dragon on cliff found at https://www.walpaperlist.com/2020/01/white-dragon-wallpaper-hd.html

Blue castle by Edmund Dulac

50 Comments

  • Suzanne Simmont

    March 16, 2021 at 9:10 am

    Thank you for yet another magical, thought provoking, emotionally layered tale. I especially love that The Crone’s tales always strike a different chord upon rereading. The imagery is a swirling whirlpool of color. Thank you for sharing your gift.

    • Cricket Baker

      March 16, 2021 at 10:04 am

      What a lovely response, Suzanne! I love that you notice a different chord upon rereading. I do try to bury a lot of meaning, as well as opportunities to interpret the story in different ways, into these tales. Some more than others; I do my best:) I’m also pleased you like the images contained in the story. You’re so welcome, and know I appreciate you reading!

  • Linda Costelloe

    March 13, 2021 at 4:40 pm

    I found this story to be thought-provoking and delightful! I love that the old queen becomes Sleeping Beauty and then Blazing Beauty! I also love it that she turned into a fairy who paints her land in fabulous colors that hadn’t been seen before and thus delights her people! I love the pictures, too!

  • Susan

    March 12, 2021 at 2:16 pm

    The tale, after first reading, gave me feelings of sadness. After the second and third readings, each slower and with greater intersection, that sadness turned to a kind of satisfaction that comes with accomplishment and of completeness. To each his own in the given time…it is in accepting that we better understand life and ourselves. The Crone is showing compassion in sharing this tale. Thank you!

    • Cricket Baker

      March 12, 2021 at 3:59 pm

      Sadness is a part of the experience, isn’t it? I am glad to hear that with additional readings of the tale you found other layers, which hopefully provided a sort of alchemy to transform the sadness or gain a new perspective. There are many ways to read this tale, including even a metaphorical death for the queen. I’m always so fascinated to hear how others read the story, what they found the story’s meaning to be. Thank you for giving such time to this fairy tale, Susan! Close readings always reveal more, yes? 🙂

      • Karen Wilson-Hubert

        March 14, 2021 at 5:26 pm

        Discovered you this day, and lo… my atrophied imagination has begun to revive. Having just reached the cusp of cronedom (just turned 70), I am more than delighted to make your acquaintance and absorb your lovely lore. Thank you!

      • Cricket Baker

        March 14, 2021 at 9:03 pm

        I’m thrilled to make your acquaintance as well, Karen! And I say, Good! Let’s get that imagination stirred up, it’s only natural for a true crone 🙂 I hope you continue to enjoy these fairy tales for Wonder xxxxxx

  • Ramona Ethier

    March 12, 2021 at 5:15 am

    I am delighted by your exquisitely discriptive and poetic tale of the Gossamer Queen and the Silver Ice Dragon. At 62, I suppose I too am entering the winter of my life or will be soon… so it spoke to me. I especially liked the reminder in the ending.

    To give such inevitable glimpses of Bursting Beauty is the purpose of every queen’s open hand.

    As one who has been sleeping for too long, with but a modest cottage upon a patch of land. I am awakened and reminded to do my part.

    Thank you for lifting my spirit for sharing your gifts and the lovely quotes and pictures that add to the beauty of your tales.

    • Cricket Baker

      March 12, 2021 at 7:57 am

      Oh Ramona, thank you for your response! The crone DOES wish to awaken with her tales, and I’m so very happy to hear you say this fairy tale served you in this way. And aren’t the images fun? My dream is to gather a collection of Crone Tales one day to be published AND illustrated by a wonderful artist. I have no idea why only children’s books get illustrated. We all love the pictures, and so I do my best to find images for free online to help bring out the story and make it more enjoyable to read. Thank you again for your comment 🙂

  • Cat Macelderry

    March 11, 2021 at 10:04 pm

    I so look forward to your tales! The imagination and creativity always give me something to think about. As a crone myself, this one was particularly enjoyable. I even got a chuckle envisioning the queen throwing herself against the walls to convince people she was still alive. Just goes to show that it’s terribly hard to get people to see beyond their beliefs. I also found it interesting that the queen seemed more curious than disturbed by her situation, even seeming to be curious about everything she saw. Probably a nice change from her boring life. There is so much in this story, I think I will go read it again. Thanks for sharing with us.

    • Cricket Baker

      March 12, 2021 at 7:53 am

      It IS hard to get people to see beyond their beliefs, isn’t it? A condition of being human…conditioning:) I do love including both psychology and spirituality in these tales and letting the crone’s listeners make what meaning they will. Hearing your thoughts is delightful! Curiosity is a huge ingredient of Wonder, which is central to my storytelling, so I’m quite pleased you noticed that about the queen. Thank you for your comment, Cat! 🙂

  • Barbara

    March 11, 2021 at 3:20 pm

    Is it not good to partake of wondrous things? To feel the colours all around us, melting the cruel ice and washing away nightmares?
    Thank you for this – we all need wondrous just now! ❤️

  • Anna O Connor

    March 11, 2021 at 4:46 am

    I really enjoyed your story and I am looking forward to reading more and more of them . The images you created with your words and the feelings of cold and dreary conditions was wonderful . I loved the ending where the queen became aware of the fairies and the true colours that exist in the world . She was reborn.

    • Cricket Baker

      March 11, 2021 at 7:55 am

      Oh, delicious, I love your detailed response with what you liked!! I’m very happy you enjoyed the story and wish to read more of these fairy tales for Wonder 🙂 Yes, Anna, she was reborn; big transformation/rebirth is my favorite thing to write. Thank you for your comment!

    • Cricket Baker

      March 10, 2021 at 8:21 pm

      I’m pleased you liked it, Marlys! Yes indeed: “It is not children only that one feeds with fairy tales.” ~ Nathan the Wise. Thank you for your response, it’s so important for me to know how readers are receiving the crone’s tales 🙂

  • Dawn

    March 10, 2021 at 6:49 pm

    IT’s lovely and gentle beauty enfolds it’s every word with magic. Extraordinary imagination and love of writing the crone into our lives. Thank you.

    • Cricket Baker

      March 10, 2021 at 5:15 pm

      I’m terribly flattered on your comment that mine are like poetry, Nickie! Lately I’ve been enamored with poetry and poetic prose, and this is why my tales have taken a poetic turn 🙂 I rather like it, too. And absolutely, I think all the world needs fairy tales more than ever as we all can use some reminding that impossible things really do happen, and perceiving magic in the world is both a delight and healthy for our psyches besides. We need to be a bit more like Alice to feel alive, yes? xxxxx

  • Wendy Wyatt

    March 10, 2021 at 2:49 pm

    Oh Cricket ~ I so love your Crone Tales… and this was wonderful! I love the magic you spell with words, eliciting feelings of wonder and wild abandon. So much gets trapped in our mortal coil, yet your vivid imagination invites mine out to play~ Much gratitude for you story! XO

    • Cricket Baker

      March 10, 2021 at 2:53 pm

      Sweet Wendy, it gets no better than hearing of wonder and wild abandon feelings! I’m very happy to invite you out to play and shall continue to do so! xoxoxoxo

  • JACQUI JEROMSON

    March 10, 2021 at 2:07 pm

    Lovely tale, tonight I may wish upon a star. I hope I choose one that loves me ……. xxJ

  • Mary Whalen

    March 10, 2021 at 1:19 pm

    Thank you for the gossamer queen. What a lovely image. The river dragon was my favorite part of the story.

  • Ness

    March 10, 2021 at 12:51 pm

    Oh, Cricket! A tale of powerful transformation, lightly told and received with heartfelt thanks. Deeply truthful. Warmly comforting. Thank you x

  • Frann

    March 10, 2021 at 11:52 am

    Such a beautiful fairy tale. I was swept along in the gossamer.
    A true bittersweet story with a hint of Russian folk tales🤗
    Thank you😁

    • Janet L Soucek

      March 10, 2021 at 1:19 pm

      A beautiful tale, for those who have yet to relinquish their independence. There is a lesson to be learned here.

      As for me, I love getting older and weaving the past and future stories into my own tapestry.

      Sincere thanks for the loveliness if your story.

      • Cricket Baker

        March 10, 2021 at 2:27 pm

        You’re so very welcome, Janet! I am a volunteer advocate in assisted living facilities, and this tale was actually inspired by a woman whose nursing home room I peeped into. Can I say that it’s quite exciting that you love getting older! There are many benefits. I like who I am now much more than who I was when I was younger. Thank you for your comment. 🙂