Moving to Freedom, .Org

Next Frog!

cauldron (’s look into the cauldron.

Yes, it is a bubbling cauldron. That is the only kind of cauldron.

It is bubbling fantastically!

Your colors may vary. I can imagine a cauldron filled with green goopy gunk, but this cauldron we’re looking into right now holds red and orange frothy stuff. It isn’t hot, though. Just warm. Not that I’ve stuck a finger in there. It just feels warm if I hold my hand over it. The fire below is small. Look: I can even touch the side of the thing without getting burned. Now I’m just holding my hand there. It’s fine.

Yet still it bubbles fantastically.

Through the cave opening — the cauldron is in a cave, of course — we can see weather moving in. Trees dancing with the wind, and that bracing feeling of the approaching storm, blowing cool air ahead of it.

Looking back to the cauldron…

There must be a new topic churning in this ghastly goulash.

Don’t look away, you might miss it.

Don’t go out to watch the storm. What you need is in this kettle.

Do you? Do you need it? Do you even want it? It doesn’t look all that appealing. Maybe if you keep drinking it, you’ll develop a taste for it.

What do we even have here? Is the thing we want in the cauldron? To be scooped out and consumed, or smeared on ourselves, or something? Or is it an apparition that will appear in the miasma overhead? A visitation from the Muse. Or Aunt Thelma.

I believe that more phantasms will arrive, the more we give voice to them, and to do that, I have to ladle this out, even if it offers little of sustenance for you, the visitor to my cave.

I’ll keep stirring the cauldron. I’ll seek the right ingredients.

Oh, curses! Look. The fire has gone out. And I’m out of dry wood in the cave, and outside the rain is coming down hard, and the magic has fled.

At least we can enjoy the storm together. Look! I have these nice Eddie Bauer folding camp chairs, with built-in footrests. Please come sit by the cave entrance with me.

Look out there in the rain: A frog!