The Northern See-gull who crossed his Eyebrows at all Double Crossers and the Plucky Migrating Birds – or How Environmentalists turned Human
Once upon a time, in a faraway Northern land, there was a See-gull. This Northern See-gull had a great sorrow, and he felt like there was no tomorrow. He was shivering with cold and had goosebumps, his tears were falling in big lumps. His metric feet suddenly stumbled and he switched over to prose.* "What happened to the world?" he asked his subjects prosaically. "What the good guano grief befell here?"
The state of the world gave him the hump and he saw no way out. But not only was the state of the world too much for his stomach to take, he was well aware that more and more chips of plastic lighters and cosmetic waste had piled up inside him, which he had mistaken for tasty food on the surface of the seven seas. Who could reproach him then, that for a while he has favoured organic waste and compostmodern solutions, as you may guess by now.
The hump had come over him in recent years. Originally, his specialty was that
The see-gull was very warm-hearted, but his
if necessary, he
poor soul was shivering up there North, and he wanted
could single out all double-crossers. I would not say he
to hear more of those heart-lifting stories from faraway
saw them black-and-white, nor that he could only see
places, and to inspire dancing spirits in other parts of
two-coloured mason bees (Osmia bicolor), because he
the world, too. The king of Electric Rays in charge of
could see shades, too, and could see all the species of
All-ego-ray only lent a helping flipper to his dependant
bees on the verge of extinction: giant furrow-bees
rays, within his ray-nge of command. The dependants,
(Halictus
(Anthophora
lacking nictitating membrane** or any kind of eyelid,
parietina), poppy bees (Osmia papveris), Snail-
did everything he asked without so much as a blink. So
thatching
he assaulted the see-gull on all worldwide water- and
quadricinctus),
digger-bees
golden-fringed
mason-bees
(Osmia
aurulenta), leaf-cutter bees (Megachile), red mason
airwaves.
bees (Osmia rufa), Eastern carpenter bees (Xylocopa virginica), mining bees (andrena), club-horned bees (Melitturga clavicornis), Pantaloon bees (Dasypoda hirtipes), Blood bees (Sphecodes), masked bees (Prosopis), Wool carder bees (Anthidium), plasterer bees (Colletes), nomad bees (Nomada), sharp-tailed cuckoo bees (Coelioxys conica) and the fearful beekilling European beewolves (Philanthus triangulum). So as you can see, it was not a problem for him to see the rest of the fading diversity of the world, but his specialty materialized clearly in simply seeing through all double-crossers, so should he spot one, it/he/she completely escaped his sight.
That was one of the reasons he had to resort to diplomatic air- and maritime warfare with the King of Electric Rays (Torpedo marmorata) of All-ego-ray, who always painted a better picture of himself in front of everybody, and accused the visionary see-gull that due to his unique vision, he only supported indigodyers, counterfeiting artificial lemongrassy greens and their take-off fields within his boundlessness. However, in reality, just the opposite was true.
As you can see, the life of the benign see-gull was embittered by grievance and bellyache, but luckily not his empire, his treasury was full of krones, รถres, all sorts of marks, he could invest in good causes. He was mulling over what he could do to turn the world right (well, not in orientation, but in a real way, in its atmosphere and essentially, to the core). As he was pondering and pondering it, summoning not only his wise owls but his court jester, and together they figured out how to find a solution.
interviewed when a fluffy animal on the verge of They resolved that it would be the best to
extinction is born at some Zoo.
involve all earthlings, vagabonds and the famed group of ground cuckoos, the Roadrunners, who have firsthand (or -leg) experience of, and do something against the grim, devastating, diabolic processes on Earth. Since they themselves, spending most of their time up in the air, can mostly sense and suffer the change of the atmospheric climate and the degrading quality of their food, but all they can do is try and flee. However, during their flights and flutterings they could clearly see that there were certain odd-one-outlandish cuckoo's eggs,
wonderworking
birds
wandering
between
communities, who, both from way above and in close proximity seem to be, to all intents and purposes, twolegged humans who relate to their environment in a different way.
While each and every one of these rare creatures were born human, what's more, all humans, as the children of nature, were originally born environmentalists
in
their
own
way.
In
today's
manically mechanic world, however, this natural approach
has
become
a
distinguishing
feature.
Naturally, it's true that these environMentalists seem to be eating totally different food, but that is indeed a good thing. And their garments seem to be less plastic, too, even though they are not killing for fur. They are aware that there are societies, like the place where they are wearing feathers on their head, which do not distinguish between humans and environMentalists, just like there is no definitive division line between nature and humanity. Unfortunately, even there, nature is being constantly blasted and driven to ruins, with all the depletion and the driving away of feathered folks. All in all, the winged council came to the conclusion that it would be best to reach out to these creatures that other people considered eccentric oddballs, and ask them to show what those who are following their path are doing and feeding themselves with. And they also figured that this individual or individuals may only be
reached
through
some
cross-border
announcement.
They realised they needed to reach even deeper down, and so they included in the call that whoever demonstrates the way to convince all other creatures, humans, kings and rays, that these odd-one-outlandish cuckoo's eggs, migrating birds, or even indigenous people or wanderers, that is, environMentalists are Even so, their fellow humans treated them as some eccentric oddballs. More specifically, they called them environMentalists, who, as a separate species, were only summoned infrequently, at times of great floods, and after sleet-related environmental damages to be featured in off-peak slots at the centre of the big broadcasting box. Incidentally, they may also be
human, too, who are acting in a progressive way, he or she will get enough reward in hand (or paw) to carry his idea out. Of course, it was added that all shoeshiners and bootlickers should stay away, only ideas from high-flying and captivating communities are welcome, and even among those, the particularly world-transforming schemes.
So then 101 roadrunners (who were real life messengers disguised as ground cuckoos) ran 102 ways. They were off to blow their pumpkin-pipe beneath every window. Believe it or not, they reached even the deepest green-hearts in the state of All-egoray. They counted as real odd ones out in this region: among them were Gibbon and the Goodneighbours, Walker Massa and the Poppy Seedlings, and all groundbreakers without number. So they got together in their enchanted centre in the middle of the Land of Sand, to come up with a plan for the great call of the see-gull. They settled down around the rocket stove, they set the fire under the Carpathian Braunvieh goulash, others kneaded a tasty dough out of cuckoo's eggs and Pusztaszer spelt under the gazebo, and the kids were turning cartwheels in the garden. And in the meantime
they
were
pondering
upon
what
revolutionary idea they should come up with, all together.
As they were contemplating, there approached an itsy-bitsy story-teller bee, it was a masked bee, indeed, because it was Maya Bumberak herself in disguise, and let me disclose that she may have arrived at the inspiration of HERMAZE
and
the
honey-god,
Melisseus. She sat down at the edge
of
the
gazebo
and
commenced the following tale, which had an enormous effect on the company:
"Once upon a time, over the Seven Seas, even past the Intergalactic droid paths, otherwise not so far away from the town of Totnes in Britanny, from there only three flea jumps and four ant-steps away, there was a big tree. This huge tree had 75 branches, all 75 branches had 75 leaves, and all leaves had 2 and 2 sides. And as you leafed through these leaves, in the last quarter there nested a gigantic bird. This bird was so huge that if it spread out its wings, well, a bulky man could easily take cover underneath. And do you know what this bird was called? Well, I tell you, its name was the "Griffin of Totnes". And this bird travelled the world, went from one place to another, flew far and wide, flew in the high
skies,
and
searched
and
studied
whatever happened in the world. She noted scores of things, with her sharp eyes, and she was harassed by a great grief.
Uhhh, no, indeed, my friends" - thought the Griffin of Totnes - I am not nesting any more. And so she moaned on and on for a good while, until suddenly her stomach started rumbling, and she set off again, started flying - when a wonderful and fabulous thing
Why was this griffin grieving so much? Well, let me tell you, my little birdies because as she was watching the world she realised that the Earth was running out of breath. And along with it, that of the teeming two-legged earthlings, and of the birds. And this made her so very sad that she sat on his nest and finally announced: "I am not nesting any more! What's the use of nesting in this world? I'm not laying any more eggs! Why on earth should I do that? What would my nestlings face after hatching? How would I bring them up, what would I feed them with? Oily fish from the foot of sea-disaster struck areas? Or gummy bear? E250 or genetically modified worms, so that in the end they grow 5 ears and scaled tales?
happened. One day, when she was circling above the town of Totnes, in search of genetically unmodified voles and flies, all of a sudden, she noticed a colourful group of humans, there was some kind of meeting. It was a gathering of happy two-legged creatures: they were very joyful, they were telling stories, were happy, and oh my, they were so wonderful. So she flew nearer so she could overhear what world-shaking plans they were drawing up. The Griffin descended on the branch of a mulberry tree, and she listened to them from up there for seven days and seven nights, for seven twinklings of an eye... She was listening and listening how not to drown in oil, how not to drink detergent soaked spring water - well, these were the kinds of things the human creatures were chatting
about. All this talk caught her fancy, and she stuffed
worthy two-legged roadrunners whom she thought
her mind with all this science, when the seven days
would be able to carry on this immense knowledge,
passed, without a word or a croak, she flapped her
she gently dropped an egg‌
huge wings and flew back to her nest in the last quarter of the 150th leaf of the 75th branch of the fabulous tree and laid an egg. But it was not just any kind of egg, as you may foresee with your fable-seeing eyes.
She delivered all the 75 eggs this way. That is how it was possible that a few of them happened to land here, by the Danube, in this flat and y Pest-Buda area. Then these eggs started to roll, looking for their place, a nest to grow into communities in transition. Since then, many waters have flown down the Danube, and the Thames, even the Bodrog and the MIssissippi... but one thing is for sure. These eggs have grown to become communities, and these communities have accomplished innumerable good deeds, even a book has been written about them. It happened so, just like in a fairy tale... if you don't believe it, check it out!
The company stayed mesmerized for long moments. As they recognised their own story, they understood the message of the bees (and the flowers), they realized that Gibbon was no The egg was disguised as a misfit cuckoo egg,
longer a monkey, and all of them were
however, it concealed no cuckoos. Don't expect
valuable humanoids. So they invited
anything like that. The egg was full of plans and ideas, an intelligent, all heart and soul world-altering smartegg, and it contained the distilled knowledge of the colourful people of Totnes. Then the griffin of Totnes settled down on the egg, and nestled it for 75 days and
writers, readers, editors, illustrators and a printed catalyst and they drew up the plan for a fabulous 150-page
75 nights, while she ate and drank nothing. And in the
guide, which finally won the tender
meantime the egg started to transform. But that's not
heart of the see-gull. And that is how
all: it started to multiply and reproduce imperceptibly. One egg, two eggs, three eggs... and finally there were 75 cuckoo eggs below her. When the 75th day had
their own book was born, the title of which is .... well, do you think it's real?
passed, the griffin gingerly picked one up between her huge clawed feet and flew off.... she wandered the world, flying on and on, carrying all the eggs in such a manner, and where she found decent, colourful folks,
Indeed, it's Fables of Realit
* The intro is the re-vision of The Shivering King, a tale by Ferenc Móra ** third eyelid that is translucent or clear - all the bee species are existing ones - Her-Maze is the Greek god, Hermes, while Melisseus is the Greek god of bees and honey making
NOTE: The small English town of Totnes is often refered to as the Cradle of Transition; here we find the place and the people, the practice and the purpose that lit a flame that came of age as the Transition movement. Every Great Turning has its own Creation Myth. Every diverse movement has many. Here is one such story translated from the collection of Hungarian tales of Transition, "Fables of Reality". Kinga Kovács has blended into English a Hungarian tale, Ferenc Morá's The Shivering King with storyteller Maja Bumberák's tale, the Griffen of Totnes. The full Hungarian version of Hungarian Transition tales, Ha nem lenne, ki kéne találni, by Kovács Kinga was published early 2016 by Katalizátor Kiadó and avainable from zoldbolt.hu The book was created by Védegylet as part of the Small Communities in Transition project, financed by the Norwegian Civil Fund and the EUAID financed Climate project; Many thanks to writer and editor Kinga Kovács, illustrator Csilla Gévai, storyteller Bumberák Maja, project organiser Zsuzsi Keszthelyi and the many people who shared their stories. Tracey Wheatley, Védegylet, Hungarian Transition HUB 2016