The Wonder Book



A modern interpretation of fables from Greek mythology for boys and girls

based on a novel originally written and concieved (1851) by Nathanial Hawthorne.



And now, The Wonder Book.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~




The city lies glistening before you. Los Angeles is a cat in the sun,


her eyes twinkling, smiling as cats are apt to do. Cats, dogs. butterflies, and the like, remind us life is beautiful.


This world is a great deal of fun. If you wish it. Marvel with me at the balmy breeze. She is escorting


hummingbirds draped in sparkling green sequins to all the roses,


lilies, honeysuckle, and plumeria carpeting the side streets along Sunset Boulevard. In between snacks,


these little winged gems gather to gossip in the palm trees above them.


They clatter and chatter so much, it feels and looks as if they are fire works


exploding on the 4th of July. El Niño, the weather monster, sleeps like you did when you where


a baby because today is special, it’s your birthday. Not the day you were


born on, although that may very well be, but becuase the day is new, and with each


new day we are all born again into this wonderful life, on this wonderful


cobalt-blue orb we call home. Mother earth is so kind and patient.


She knows you will be thoughtful and always treat her with love and respect.


She’s smiling brightly. Do you know why? Simple! You make all the right


decisions because you trust yourself, which is directly related to the


trust your parents have instilled in you. You give off an air of goodness.


Faith and love are the fruits your actions and your words produce all around you.


I know, I know, you do not even have to say, I talk too much. I should pay


attention to the hawks above. They are dancing to the beat of the mid-day sun.


Their scarlet-tinged feathers reflect the skyscrapers dotting our vista,


here where we stand, in this lovely park that lords over Hollywood like


a lenient uncle, or grandmother; a place of safety, an over indulgence.


Look! Look down the hill, see the little folk? Some are about your age.


Some younger, some older, and there is a lone figure towering above them.


They look like ants swarming a bean stalk. They are something to remark upon.


I know them all. They are brothers and sisters and cousins and just a few friends


out on a hike. We know better than to explore this park or any part of this city


without an elder to guide us. The same thing applies to your home in the country,


that is, if you have one, but that’s who the bean stalk is, an elder. He makes


a dashing figure in his green shorts and Nike sneakers. He seems mature,


as he undoubtedly is. Being almost 17 years of age, one must have acquired


some wisdom. I would tell you the names of our little folk below but I always


get into trouble when I reveal someone’s privacy, so I will give them new names.


There’s Tea Leaf, Loaf Bread, Ginger, Yam, Octopus and Chilly, there’s also


Lick Face and Mush Room and Dog Breath. The youngest ones are Baby Face,


Cry Baby, and Baby Steps. They are quite a bundle of joy and a source of


endless mischievousness. The bean stalk? I will give you his name. It is


Joseph Michael Waldbauer. I think he wants you to know his name for he is


the one who told me this story I am about to tell you. He is a little proud,


but he is going to college next year and gets carried away with impressions,


his mostly. He thinks because he has taken college courses at Santa Monica City


College, he is somehow uniquely qualified to speak onto the little folk, and he is


most assuredly qualified, but we don’t tell him that. He is too full of himself


already and being that he is, all in all, a jolly good fellow who only


sees the best in others, we forgive him his illusions and know that in the end,


he will turn to be a very good citizen to his neighbors. And what a story teller


he is! Oh my! He can lift a story from thin air. He obviously cares about what


becomes of all living things, especially little folk, and to prove my words


infallibly true, I shall begin. Now, close your eys, let everyday thoughts go, and listen.


Once upon a time, in a land far, far, away, lived Perseus …




(Installment # 1 Each day, a new page, so until tomorrow, sweet dreams.)

02/02/2007

Posted on 02/03/2007
Copyright © 2025 Scott Utley