Episode 42
Travelling Light E42S02 Transcript
[Title music: rhythmic electronic folk.]
H.R. Owen
Travelling Light: Episode Forty Two.
[The music fades out.]
The Traveller
Entry 850SV14-1. A discussion held with an astronomer I met in the countryside around Clanagh.
Key words: astronomy; Clanagh; Kerrin; natural world; philosophy and theology.
Notes:
I have spent a good deal of time in Clanagh walking in the hills and woodland that surround the town, largely alone since Óli is not inclined to venture far from the comforts of home and hearth, especially if there may be mud involved.
During one of these walks, I found myself in a clearing, enjoying the interplay of light and shadow on the leaves of the trees around me, when a voice suddenly broke the silence.
“Isn't it beautiful?”
I admit, I startled. The newcomer grinned at me – a sharp-eyed, wrinkle-faced person whose head barely reached my shoulder. She had come upon me without making a sound, and clearly found my surprise amusing.
Once I had recovered from the fright, we fell into conversation. Her name was Urksa, and while it is difficult to tell the ages of different species, I had the impression she was older than me.
She had the hard-won certainty of self that I recognised from many of the older women of my acquaintance.
She was dressed unusually for what I have seen from others in this area. Instead of the rough, simple clothes I have seen on most people here, Urksa wore layers upon layers, adorned with trinkets and ribbons.
And she was fascinated about my travels, wanting to know as much as I could tell her of what I have seen.
When explained the purpose of my journey – to bring our community closer to the world around us by hearing the stories the people of this world have to tell us – Urksa became intrigued.
She asked if she might make a contribution, and of course, I agreed. This is what she told me.
“When you spend such a great deal of time staring into the void as I do, you can begin to feel quite small. Insignificant. And yet.
I am an astronomer by trade. I read the stars and tell you their stories, their meaning and lives. Where they sit, where they came from, where they shall be – mapping their journey through the black.
Stars are so absolutely, indescribably, incomprehensibly huge. We cannot even dream of imagining their number – and it is my job to understand each and every one of them. Or as many as I can, at least!
That is not a complaint, to be clear. The night sky is mesmerising. Even after looking upon it for as long as I have, it never ceases to amaze me. Of course, one cannot help but feel tiny under the gaze of such glittering gods.
And yet, I fail to find that depressing as some may. I find it exhilarating. Such beauty has been laid out before me, an infinite ocean of treasures to explore.
I work nights – [laughing] of course! You can’t do much stargazing during the day. You’ll hurt your eyes, if nothing else. So I don’t get as much chance as I would like to see nature a little closer to home. And yet, I am equally as fascinated by the mundane.
The whole world fascinates me, whether the natural or the artificial. Machinery is a formidable god. Just take my telescope, for example – such a simple combination of parts to such a powerful effect.
At the same time, I cannot help but marvel at the cobwebs that crowd the corners of my home. Such intricate works of natural art adorning the artificial achievements of sentient, advanced life.
It’s all just so… similar! We create, and the spiders create, and the universe itself creates. At the end of the day, it’s just a matter of scale.
Speaking of scale, I know some people find it intimidating to contemplate the cosmos. It makes them feel insignificant in comparison. And of course, they are. We are, I mean. I am but a cog in the intricate machine of the universe.
But being so small is a blessing. We are able to admire such beauty without really being affected by it. We are warmed by the heat of the stars and kept alive by their presence, without having to offer anything in return.
We are a speck in their void, and there isn’t very much that can be done in that respect. We simply must sit back and watch them pass. Personally, I rather enjoy the feeling.
No matter what I do, what mistakes I make, they will never be great enough to affect a star. The world will continue to turn, and life shall go on. It is difficult to feel bad about your failings when you see them held up against the scale of the universe.
That is not to say that a person cannot be significant or important. Of course not. We talk of 'reaching for the stars' for a reason, do we not? But on balance, I must say, I am content with my place in the order of things.”
[The sound of the data stick whirring fades in, cutting out when the data stick is removed with a click.]
The Traveller
14th Savna 850
To the community at Emerraine, who carry the Light.
I did not know much of Clanagh before I arrived. I knew it was small and rural, but did not have any real scale by which to compare it.
Would it be small in comparison to my beloved Emerraine, home to two million people? Or rural compared to the little mountain village of Doyino on Peteimos?
In fact, Clanagh is closer to Ikaalu – the town where I met Eiki, the little girl, and saw a puppet show. It is home to around a thousand souls, not including the outlying farms.
In the few days we have been here, I have very much enjoyed exploring the countryside nearby, which is quiet without being empty. Though I must say, it makes me miss Annaliese. She would so enjoy seeing the plants and flowers that grow here, piled in drifts along the sides of twisting country lanes.
I met some of our new neighbours at the welcome party thrown for us by the community the day after we arrived. I was more nervous about the event than I would have expected, and found myself quite restless as the hour approached.
I fretted about everything, worrying about what food might be served and who we might meet and how I would comport myself. I even started to worry about what I would wear – a thing that has never caused me much concern in the past.
Fortunately, on that issue at least, I had a solution close to hand.
“Oh, I thought you would never ask!” Óli cried when I knocked upon their door to ask for their advice.
“Just so we are clear,” I said, as they strode through the cottage to my own room, “I am only looking for an outfit for tonight. You are not invited to overhaul my entire wardrobe.”
“Do not be so foolish,” they shot back. “You barely own an entire wardrobe.”
The pile certainly seemed large enough when Óli threw every garment I own atop my bed and began sifting through them.
“How many dungarees does a person need?” they said, wrinkling their nose.
“That is a boiler suit, not dungarees. And as if you do not have fifty dresses and a hundred skirts.”
“The difference is, I know what I am doing with them all,” they said primly. “Come along. We will find you something of mine to wear.”
I tried to protest – it was already getting close to the time the party was to begin. But they were already out of the room, oblivious to any argument I might make.
The first thing they gave me to try on was a floor-length robe which always looks wonderful on them. I began to undress, and Óli quickly averted their eyes. I suppose their culture must have different norms around nudity than ours.
The problem is, I am built quite differently than Óli. They are all long limbs and willowy strength, while I... am not.
[voice strangled] You look very nice,” they tried to say.
“Do not laugh at me.”
[stifling laughted] “I am not laughing! No. No, I am not laughing at you. It is just… [bursts out laughing] Your little legs...!”
Next we tried a sort of jumper thing with a high, voluminous collar which, when they wear it, only emphasises the slender elegance of Óli's neck.
“I look like a teapot,” I said, glaring at my reflection while behind me, Óli bent double, cackling with laughter. “Have you not got anything sensible to wear?”
[laughing] “No,” they admitted. “Not really.”
I checked the time. [sighs] “We are already late. I should just wear what I had picked out already.”
“No, wait! I am sure we can find something. Just give me a minute.”
Eventually, they dug out a short, woven tunic from the back of their wardrobe and paired it with some colourful knitted leggings from my own. This done, they stepped back and considered me with a scientific eye.
“Hm… It is missing something…” Then, their face lit up. “Oh! I have it!”
With a flourish, they placed a small, brimless hat upon my head, tilting it just so. They smiled down at me, their eyes warm with laughter, and declared me perfect.
We ended up getting to the party almost an hour late, and quite seriously overdressed. Not that Óli seemed to notice.
They looked spectacular in a sheer robe covered in metallic embroidery with some kind of plain, structural garment beneath. They stuck out like a sore thumb among the far simpler outfits of the other guests.
But while Óli basked in the attention, I cringed at being so obviously out of place.
I ought to have been quite comfortable since a good amount of the guests were of our own community. Indeed the party was being held in the temple, a worship space not so different to our own. I ought to have stepped inside and felt at home.
It is not that I hid myself away at the party. I met the community secretary, a woman named Paridhra, and made conversation with a number of other community members and neighbours.
It was more that I felt as if I were going through the motions – performing as myself, if that makes sense. I did not feel that I was really present. I stood beside the table of food and... [sighs] I wanted to go home. All the way home. To Emerraine.
Óli has already made friends. In fact, it was they who introduced me to some of the other guests. One was a person named Ranaí, a broad, amiable man a little older than me, with thick braids wrapped in brightly coloured string.
“Ranaí was telling me, he has done as you have,” Óli said. Their eyes shone with excitement and more than a little wine. “Your big adventure!”
I felt a little jump in my chest. Perhaps Ranaí would understand some of my feelings. “You travelled for the community?" Ranaí inclined his head in confirmation. “How long were you travelling? I have been gone some six months, though it feels like longer.”
Ranaí's expression was polite. “Oh, how lovely. I was away... Oh, some eight years or so?”
I let Óli carry the conversation after that.
After a while, I began to make my excuses. I thanked everyone for the effort they had made and explained that I was tired from my journey.
Óli offered to come home with me, but they were enjoying themselves. And they looked so wonderful, lit up in sparkling lights and... [sighs] I left them to it.
Eight years. My journey feels a mere hop and a jump in comparison. Six months crossing the galaxy to reach a place not so unlike the one I left. And yet, it is altogether too unlike for my liking.
Oh, I am being morbid! I had a nice evening! I was still up when Óli came home and we had a cup of tea together before retiring to our rooms. I miss my friends from the Tola, and I miss all of you, but I will make new friends.
II will find my place here and be content. All will be well. Send my love to everyone. Keep me in your prayers. You are all, as ever, in mine.
[Title music: rhythmic instrumental folk. It plays throughout the closing credits.]
H.R. Owen
Travelling Light was created by H.R. Owen and Matt McDyre, and is a Monstrous Productions podcast. This episode was written and performed by H.R. Owen.
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