The Noondays have always known they are THE best caste of shadow… strong, assertive, basking in the mid-day glory of their sun-god’s favor. Yes, there may be contenders, and perhaps some might find a glimmer of interest in the ghostly gloams or the wavery liquidicious longrays … but how can those compare to the solidity, the no-nonsense oomph-ness of us Noondays? they crow with pleasure to one another, and anyone else who cares to heed.
So then, who is this one, this husky healthy little Noonday who, having long listened to her mid-light mother’s secretive sleepy-time stories (about some other shadow-realms our little one can only barely imagine), and what is this she is planning while all the other Noondays slumber in preparation for the next highlight of noon sun, when they will once again regain their rightful center-stage spot?
She begins by avidly questioning her mom, her dad, and all the aunts and uncles who’ve at some point in their lives spoken offhandedly of these other realms. Some are able to shed some light, some haven’t a clue, and gaze upon our questioner with clueless wonder… some even suspecting her motives. When she has learned all there is to learn, when now their answers are all either already answered or of no good use, she turns to her planning.
First, I must figure out how to arouse myself at such a strange and scary hour, ponders our Noonday ponderously, when our sun-god has long been off to the beyond. And, I must try to cleverly anticipate his return with such accuracy, that I may witness just that moment of return, if such there truly be. Aha, auntie’s story of how the farmer is “up and attem” at the crow of the rooster! And she said that happens right at dawn! I’ll make sure to watch the rooster today, try to see where he roosts. If I can try to dally nearby as our noon hour wanes into midlight time, then I’ll be close enough to hear him at the next dawning, and I too will jump up and attem!
But at the next dawning, upon hearing the rooster crow, our Noonday can’t figure out how to make herself get “up and attem” with no sun to energize her. So to overcome her disappointment, all that mid-day and the next two, she works on an inventraption that might bring her the energy she needs to jump “up and attem” at the rooster’s crow.
She first fashions a little storage jar out of some bulby-thing she's found in the farmer’s trash bin, into which she gathers some of the juiciest and brightest rays of the mid-day sun, and then she stitches together a bright-tight light-holder pack out of the greenest thickest leaves, to enclose and preserve the brightness for the next cock-crow moment. Then she hides her pack behind a nearby tree, and as the noonday shadows begin to lengthen, she snuggles down next to her pack, and awaits the next rooster-alarm.
Dear reader, you know since you are currently in the midst of reading my tale, that our Noonday awakes with the dawn the following morning, she whips out her clever inventraption of stored sunlight, and discovers the wondrous half-light and ghostly gloams who inhabit it.
( And if you don't believe, me just look at the RECord of this event, "If the Noon Shadow has Wanted to See a Dawn" http://www.hitrecord.org/records/332578 by Azur_du_Ciel!)
These gloams, for their part, are de”light”ed to discover our intrepid Noonday! Well, at first they hang back, wondering what to make of the noon brightness that she brings. But after a few fearful moments, the gloams find unexpected pleasure in the warmth and light she sheds, and before you can say cock-a-doodle-doo, they are all sharing, chatting, dancing together, learning as much as they can about one another, until little by little, our Noonday’s store of sun-drops are all used up, and she has to return to her resting place all in the pre-dawn morning.
But, oh the stories she’ll share with her Noonday siblings, when they all emerge from their slumbers! Hmmm... Dear reader, do you think they’ll believe even one little ray of her tale?