
Yggdrasil
in a garden of sunshine, and pockets full of gold.
Excerpt from a sci-fi adventure.
The world of Yggdrasil is our world, as it once was, long before the first breath came to pass the lips of human children. It is our world, as it was, as it still is, and as it one day once more will become beneath the shade of the ever tree.
So here we stand, you and I, two travelers of time. On a desolate shore forming on the curve of one of Yggdrasil's bigger branches.
Its white sand stretches far beyond the horizon of what our eyes can see. And above and beyond this world lies the vastness of stars and blue skies which meet the melting of the golden white sand and endless ocean.
Behind us, from branches that are stretching impossibly high above the clouds, water cascade and hurl toward the ground, floods and rivers made up of water rush forward through the clouds and sky, and as it propels towards the soil it is forming a brutish song of power and tranquility. The mist that eternally forms from the stream of speeding water, following its roaring cascade towards the ground, and wherever it finally hit the surface of the lake and ground where we stand, the force of colliding water forms a shower of misty air and perpetual rain that covers everything around us.
2050AD
[ Oceans run the risk of having more total weight of plastic than fish.]

Far away from the shore where we stand, out in the ocean, an endless maelstrom forms a black hole that carves the borders of reality.
It is a void of nothingness.
But does it vanish into the black night you might ask of me, is it, an end without beginning, or is it like a pool of water that deep beneath the dark shimmering surface connects dislocated worlds.
And if you one day ask me, I will reply that 'I just don't know my love.'
'But we call it Ginnungagap.'
[ 'But we call it Ginnungagap.' ]
So now, here we are, the two of us, with the eye of entire worlds resting upon our own two beings, two travelers standing on the sandy shores of our own tree.
And now we wait for life to form, not this life.
Not the life we already know so well.
But the life of giants, gods, and people, all those that came before us. We will wait here for the doors to slam wide open upon our own day and time.
We wait for the dark ravens to call our name in the night and winters. And we will wait for the tugging of their song that picks at our very soul. And one day, we will say 'to think that in this very now, they still sing to us', just as they will soon do, long before our own day.
We stand here, on our sandy shores, in a world of fire and ice that sings their old tune as they slowly progress their ascend into our world, crawling across the realm, growing outwards from the glaciers beneath the roots of Yggdrasil and with the ice, there are the clouds of fire that comes from the fiery heart inside the tree.
And before our eyes, they all meet and mix out in the open air.
We watch as the ice and molten lava meet and greet inside the ocean.
Plumes of white form and rise, up towards the crown of trees far beyond the stars. Ice and vapor and the roars of entire worlds still forming from the mass and energy of stars colliding and imploding.
And slowly, there he is.
A hand, a finger, the slowly forming skull. As we watch in silence, over eons he forms, the one that will become, the first of his kind.
Ymer, the giant.
That will be his name. The name we give him. The name they gave him, the warring Aesir's some would call their gods.
But, in truth, he is neither the first or the only being, given life upon these shores.
Up, and much further away down the shore and billows, miles from here, Audhumbla graced upon the far stretching meadows of Yggdrasil's towering mountains.
So grand and gigantic was this being that the milk that flowed from her formed endless rivers of milk that provided almost infinite sustenance for the flowers and plants, the entire world and all its critters already forming.
Four rivers of milk, one that brought life back to the tree itself, bringing with it soil and nutrients from the living world.
Another milky white river provided the still growing Ymer with all the nourishment he would ever need.
And perhaps, the simple fact that the father of giants had his own river would be food for thought and contemplation.
Two more rivers, deeper and wider than any river ever seen in Midgård, Asgård or any other world flowed out from the cow, digging canyons in the landscape and giving birth to flowing waterfalls the likes I had never seen anywhere else.
And at the center of everything, Audhumbla just graced the grass, the flowers, the soil and the endless stars and glaciers.
She gives endless life with her milk, and with her tongue, our gigantic cow has already started to slowly form and sculpt the Arctic ice and snow into what one day soon would be the ancestors of the only real beings that would ever walk this universe labeled as gods.
And here we stand, on these sandy shores, and we watch and see entire worlds forming before our eyes.
They twist and turn against the moving leafs, like spirals of candle light that form both radiant light and black shadows, darker than the surrounding night.
And on top us all, unseen but heard, the giant eagle calls out from its own kingdom.
You can hear each flap of its wings, like thunder the sound and air, reverberate, and far beneath our feet, hidden beneath the soil and water, deep beneath the world encompassing roots of Yggdrasil, the dragon answers from its world of ice and darkness, and we smile at it all.
Life, what a marvelous, wild thing it is.
Come I say to you as I stretch my hand out, let us find the herds of deers, and the goat they one day will call Heidrun.
Let us walk with them as we wait for the giant to open his eyes to the dawn of this world and its age of Vikings.
And as we do, let me tell you what little I know about Yggdrasil.
( from a new book I am working on, this one is not tied to my 2028AD universe but this is a completely different kind of Saga )
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