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Summer's Journey - A Tale For Grownup Children

Oliver D. Plexippus was a timid little fellow. He carefully inched his way along the forest floor looking left and right then right and left. A shy chap and quite unsure of himself, over and under leaves and branches he made his way. The scary darkness was interrupted by dapples of dim light flowing between branches high above. Reaching a small clearing he looked up. There he saw the silvery sliver of the moon reclining in the heavens.

"Oh, thank you Mistress Moon," he shouted as loud as could, which was not very loud. "Your shimmering light is quite exquisite. It must be wondrous to bring such beauty to all below."
Just then, a small cloud passed between the glistening light and the land beneath. For a moment all was dark. When once again soft rays spilled down, Oliver looked upward again. What was this? Could it be a tear? What would cause the bearer of such ethereal charm to weep? Why would such lustrous beauty be so forlorn as to shed even a single droplet?
"You are sad?" he asked. "How can this be? You light the midsummer's sky with such grace. Your hand maidens twinkle all about paying homage to your elegance. If only I had but one tiny speck of your finery I think I should be delirious for all of time."
"All is not as it seems little one", the moon replied. "My light shines dimly. I am a but a reflection of my elder brother. I may rule the night, bringing faint illumination to all who need, but presently my brother's fury will arrive and chase me from my place. I and my friends the stars will be scorched from memory. We live only at the behest of King Sol. He is fierce and often merciless. The beauty that you see, like all beauty, is fleeting. I am mocked even by clouds who have their way with me whenever a whim allows. Put not your faith in such things as beauty alone for you will be greatly disappointed."
Little Oliver continued on giving little thought to the moon's wise words. Having been born but a short time ago the forest was a large and mysterious place. He had no memory of his mother or his father. Alas, he was all alone.
Suddenly, there was sound. A call from somewhere above. "Who? Who? Who?" it asked over and again.
How could I know Who, Oliver wondered, looking for the place from which it came. He gazed on two bright crimson orbs staring from the darkness just ahead upon low tree branch. What sort of creature is that? Shall I call out and say that I do not know Who? Perhaps I am supposed to know,

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