Fiction Poetry

The only time is…

This is the third part in Deborah Sanderson’s story. Part 1 The Seed of Light and Dan McPhail. Part 2 In the spring of another Now.

It had all come full circle, what a curious day! Then onto the quayside capstan, the sun blazed away. The heavens were saturated with eternity blue skies, like the blue Dan gazed at in his Sweet Jeannie’s eyes. The MacPhails had their supper of mince, tatties and crumble, and everyone laughed hearing their Da’s belly rumble. Then off to the machair for some more fun and more laughter, on the lush green of an evening, this was their day’s happy after.

Dan and his son Rannock would then talk of his plans, to show the world he was close to becoming a man, proving himself to work like his Da, a King among men, and his mother a Queen. Mither and Stella made golden buttercup crowns and lang daisy chains to decorate their kingdom, filled with quarrels and making-up embraces, and working together grins on their faces. Mither and daughter sat sewing, having been given some mending from the big hoose, when Stella proudly stitched her way to promotion, and farra MacPhail, this was an ambition above her present station, but both Mither and Da encouraged her aspiration, as Stella had a gift of embroidery inherited from her Ma and late Granny Florence. Both Dan and Sweet Jeannie believed in family tradition and passing those ways on, to honour their ancestors and what they had given.

“Time fae bed you two,” their mother commanded, and reluctantly the wains climbed the hill to the hoose, leaving Sweet Jeannie and Dan with some unusual quiet, giving them time to hold hands without teasing. The pair rested their heads on each other’s shoulder, and smiled at their reflections which indeed had grown older. “Come here, my couthy loon, you know you are still all my man,” and with a dandelion puff, both these lovers of old blew kisses together until they met lip upon lip.

In the myriad colours of the setting sun on the water, and the infinite sky, Sweet Jeannie and Dan had a son and a daughter, two treasures no words could ever describe. “Look, my darling Dan, at what we two have made, and have grown young together, nae old, what happiest of beginnings. For my beloved, there is still more to come, in fine days like this or in inclement weather, whatever it is, we will face it together.” The fading sun lit a bright sparkle caught on a seed on Sweet Jeannie’s brow, and it shone like the little seed of light, revealed that day to Dan MacPhail. “Aww, my darlin’” said Dan, “light and love of my life, you’ve taught me how, the only time, the only time, the only time is Now.”

For Ronald Henry King and his grandson Rannock
© Deborah Sanderson, May 2020

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