"The bitter fog blew into our Meeting Lodge and threw papers, chairs, and pictures around. Then it blew into our School House, knocking over our desks and chairs. Our books and paper flew everywhere. The fogs slowly crawled through the lower yard, then disappeared into the PortHold. I thought this must be death. But for whom, we, the Elfin folk nor Faeries die; we are ageless. Maybe the Trolls die?" mused Barren Fly, the Elfin Prince of the OakGrove Gardens as the tale begins from the Elfin's point of view.
Why Fog as a nemesis?
During my childhood in Colorado, the weather was dramatic with winds, rain, and snow. When living Alaska, there were three days of Autumn: one the yellowed leaves, next the leaves dropped off,
on the third tiresome snow fell. California has either drought or rains. With the rain comes the fog which rolls across the ocean creeps through San Francisco and crawls across the Bay. Fog blankets the East Bay quietly and deceptively. In the Celtic and the Russian folklore, Fog is Ole Boneless, the immortal Death, who stock the living, an essential character. Fog's strange and mysterious appearance makes the perfect nemesis.
PURSUED is my retelling of the Russian folktale, 'Vasalisa, the Frog Princess,' which is in process, that means re-imagining, enhancing, and elaborating a very traditional story with twists and turns for today.