I still have a bit to learn about posting files, Amit! Here’s the copy so far. It still needs quite a bit of work, but hopefully you’ll get the gist!
I’ve spoken with Maria Paz since and she mentioned the 5-day challenge you’re .taking on to set up a FB group. Also, Nils has offered to help get a Microevent set up on the WoW platform this week which can be referred to in the mailing
The Top Soils of Humus 2
The Rallying Call of True Nature
The Arts in the Service of Life
The story starts in the land where the Poor Soils of Bare Earth meet the Top Soils of Abundance.
Having seen what can be and losing hope that things for them will ever change for the better, the
Poor Soils decide there’s nothing left to keep them on their home ground. That fateful night they
run off with the Waters they love.
It’s all downhill from there. When the Waters leave unaccountably, the Poor Soils end up in the pit
of despair, thrown together with all the Rotters, Wasters, Ne’er-do-wells and Has-beens of the Earth.
To cap it all, the Waters arrive back on the scene to make sure all the malcontents of the pit bond
The bonding proves to be the making of the Poor Soils as they’re transformed with their co-workers
into Humus, home of the Microculture of the Living Soil, MLS for short, a secret underground
movement whose mission is to save the Earth. Working under the cover of Humus and in
collaboration with the Waters, the MLS make their way back to Bare Earth as part of the Human
Humus collaboration to work their magic.
One fine day the quick turnover machine comes onto the land of Bare Earth. All day long it cuts
deep grooves into the earth and turns it over so fast that as the day is done, all the Poor Soils of Bare
Earth have been turned into long straight rows of Clumps. The last strip of Poor Soil falls right on the
edge of the land, which has a ditch running along its length. From here the Clumps can see into the
neighbouring land. And what a difference there is.
The neighbouring land is so full of life that there isn’t a scrap of bare earth to be seen, except right at
the edge, where the ditch has been cut into it. The Clumps of Poor Soil have never felt so low and
exposed for what they are, which is, in a word, lifeless. They can see that deep down the Soils on
the other side of the bank look pretty much the same as them. But the Soils on top, they’re
something different. They’re so full of life it just seems to be bursting out of them. As they look on
in despair the Clumps hear a deep, rich chorus of voices from the other side.
“Please don’t despair!” implore the Top Soils.
“What do you know?” snap the Clumps defensively as the Top Soils continue with an irresistibly
assured firmness in their voices that compels the Clumps to listen nevertheless.
“We were once Bare Earth like you before the Humans dressed us with their magical Humus.”
The Clumps’ curiosity is aroused.
“Go on,” they beckon.
The Top Soils smile warmly, happy to obliging in continuing their story.
“As they laid the dressing on us we were transformed, as if by magic, into the Topsoil of Humus.
Then when the Waters that we need so much fell for us again, for the first time we were able to hold
them, just as we’d always dreamed of. The Humans planted the seeds in us for everything grow
together, as you see now. They set in motion a chain of events that has no beginning and no end.
The more we give, the more we get back. That’s how it works. We grow so much there’s easily
enough for everything that comes here to live in this land of Abundance. We welcome them all back
to our land and there are so many of them now we can’t count, from the smallest flowers to the
biggest trees and the smallest insect to the biggest animals. We can feed them all because they
never fail to repay us, by making sure to feed us in return with everything that remains of all they’ve
taken. It feels as though we could go on forever this way and we’ll always be grateful to the Humans
for bringing life back to us.”
“That all sounds wonderful,” sigh the Clumps, “just like a fairy tale dream come true. So where do
the Humans get this magical dressing from?”
“Sadly, that we don’t know,” the Top Soils reply, “that secret stays with the Humans. But if they
brought it to us, they can bring it to you as well. You just have to hold your ground and wait for it to
What else can you do?”
“We suppose you’re right,” agree the Clumps, though deep down they’re not convinced. Still, the
Top Soils’ story has an encouraging appeal to it
“Tell us more about the Waters then, while we’re waiting and maybe we can at least learn
something useful. We need them just as much as everyone else does.
They are our life but as things stand, to be honest, we’re a nightmare together! Even though they
can’t help but fall for us, we just get all mixed up together and end up heavy as Mud. We’re nothing
but trouble to them and they won’t stay here with us like that. Truth is, they can’t get away from
this place fast enough!
They either run off with us or up and disappear, spirited off into thin air.”
“Oh dear!” sympathise the Top Soils, taking up the story again in an attempt to lighten the mood.
“Yes, we remember that too. They drop in all fresh and pure and yet they want nothing more than
to carry on sinking and falling as low as they can until they’re spirited off again, as you say. That’s
their way and it’s all we can do to cushion their fall and hold on to them for as long as we can.”
“So what about when they come down on you in a raging storm? How do you cope with that?” The
Clumps genuinely want to learn more. There may yet be a glimmer of hope.
“True enough, sometimes they still get too much for us and we can’t contain them. At least now we
can keep ourselves together and hold our ground so we don’t muddy them.”
The Top Soils smile at the thought.
“They’re free to go on their way fresh and pure, even if they fall. Mostly, though, they’re happy to
stay with us as long as they can. The time we spend working together to make things grow is truly
wonderful. We love being a part of their flow and they love the way we help things grow together.
It’s just perfect and we wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Whatever way they fall for us it doesn’t feel so fresh and pure anymore,” counter the Clumps with
their own sorry tale. “They can be cold and hard as ice, they lash and pelt down on us or barely
touch our surface before they disappear. When we’re not being turned to mud and washed away
we’re deserted and turned to dust. Then we either get blown away with the Winds or we become
hard and unyielding. We don’t know which way to turn for the best.
Here they pause with a deep sigh.
“Basically, we’re cracking up and losing the plot.”
Another pause as the weight of that thought hits home and then the floodgates open.
“Worst of all is how the Humans treat us like dirt and we’re heartily sick and tired of it. The truth is,
we’re completely drained and exhausted, Topsoil, and now we’ve been turned over again we don’t
know if we can take it anymore. We do know we’ve got nothing left to give. There isn’t anything to
keep us here anymore. Next time the Waters come we’ve a good mind to jump in the ditch and run
away with them.”
At last they stop, utterly spent.
“But where would you go,” ask the Topsoils from the other side, genuinely concerned. “Please don’t
go,” they beg, “We’re sure the Humans will come with their Humus very soon, we can feel it in our
“WHAT??” The Clumps completely lose it with the Topsoils. “We’re sorry but now you’re talking in
riddles and we just don’t have the stomach for it. Say what you like, the Waters hate us and
obviously not enough Humans know about the secret of the Humus dressing, so nothing’s going to
help us now.”
With that, the Clumps fall into deep, dark silence and the Top Soils can sadly do no more. They
wanted so much to give the Clumps hope but they just seem to have made things worse. It’s a
As night falls, the heavens open and down come the Rains, with a vengeance, hard as steel stair
rods, as a massive cloudburst of a storm breaks overhead. The Top Soils can only look on from their
safe haven, allowing the fresh new Waters to soak in, their fall broken by the lush vegetation, while
on the other side, the Waters hurl themselves without mercy into the unprotected Bare Earth to give
the Clumps their wish. The Poor Soils break down completely under the Waters’ sheer force, to be
washed into the ditch and swept away. The raging torrent breaks the banks and rushes on, going
downhill all the way with nothing to stop it, picking up everything it can in its path to add to the
turmoil of their Troubles.
As the Waters slowly subside, they deposit the weight of at least some of their Troubles in the
farmyard where they’re scooped up and carted away, to be unceremoniously dumped in a deep pit.
“So this is it. This is where we end up, hitting rock bottom,” think the Troubles to themselves.
“Well, at least it couldn’t get any worse.” No sooner is the thought out than PHLWUMP! The
biggest load of something that smells unimaginably awful lands on the Poor Soils, plunging them into
“Well, that’s just great!
As if it couldn’t get any worse, now we’re dumped on from a great height. How to define ‘feeling
down in the dumps!’” They force a laugh at their pathetic attempt at humour but it doesn’t help.
More heavy loads rain down on the Troubles until the pit is piled to the brim with layers of what
they can only describe as all the Rotters, Wasters, Ne’er-do-wells and Has-beens of the Earth, the
types they certainly wouldn’t choose to mix with. Finally, to top it all, as if from nowhere, a healthy
dose of the Waters rains down on the miserable mass of mess.
“Why now, here, like this?” wail the Troubles as they meet with the Waters again.
“It wasn’t our decision to come here,” the Waters cut in, their crystal clear tones edged with more
than a hint of coldness, “We were well on our way when we got held up by the Humans. They used
one of their machines to suck us uphill to be here with you and frankly that goes against our nature.
They take a deep breath as if to purge themselves of the indignity before going on. “From what we
understand they need us to make sure you bond with all your co-workers here so you should be
grateful we came.”
“WHAT!!!” The Troubles completely lose it again, “What is it with you Waters? Why do you torture
us so when we just want to be with you and make things grow together?
Are you so stupid that you don’t realise the Humans hate us? That’s why they’ve thrown us into this
pit of despair, to be together with all this filth instead. Now they add insult to injury by bringing you
here. Why did you leave us in the first place anyway, for us to end up in this mess?”
“Oi!” comes a muffled volley of voices from above, “Who do you think you are to call us a filthy
“What’s it to you?” yell the Troubles back, not caring for anything anyway anymore. Some of them
simply break down again while the rest get into an almighty row with all the voices from above. As
the friction mounts, the war of words heats up and the temperature in the pit starts to rise. So loud
is all the screaming and shouting that the Waters’ warning goes unheard. So blinded are they all,
either with rage or tears of self-pity that they don’t see the Waters turning to steam that’s rising up
in a curling cloud from the pile. “We’re so sorry,” they say, as once again they’re spirited into the
sky, “but we can’t stand this heat so we can’t work together with you Malcontents till all this fighting
But continue it does until the centre of the pile, where the heat of the battle is at its highest, dries
out completely. Then, with a casual “poof”, it spontaneously combusts. The first Flame pops up and
starts licking at the Malcontents of the pile. More Flames join it and as they start to grow they find
their voices, “If it’s this sort of heat you want, we’ll take care of you once and for all!” and they laugh
as their fiery dance starts to consume the panic-stricken pile. As the fire spreads, the Malcontents
scream in unison for the fire to be put out. Mercifully the Waters return at the hands of the
Humans. The pile is quickly hosed down and calm is restored.
After all the drama in the pit, everyone in the pile has turned a corner. They’re pleasantly willing to
rub along nicely together and hear each other out. In sharing the experience of each other’s tales
they break down in tears at the sad bits and bond with laughter at the good, comforted by the
warmth they are generating within and amongst themselves. At last, having worked everything
through, they are fully content to be together and are bonded as one. When the Waters next fall for
them it sinks in that they are also actually quite cool.
“So now can you work with us?” they beam, expectantly.
“Almost.“ comes the nonchalant answer.
“Almost?” The Contents’ faces drop.
They barely keep their cool but somehow manage to hold it together. They so want it to work out
with the Waters. They’ve come so far and got so close that they’re not about to give up now, no
“But aren’t we good enough as we are, all bonded together, happy and content? We can do
whatever you ask of us and take on the world!”
“Good enough, yes, but you don’t understand. ‘Good enough’ isn’t anywhere near the best you can
be. Now the MLS are active in you through me, there’s so much more you can give, more than you
can ever imagine. Together we have the potential to achieve greater things than you can dream of
right now. If you’re only willing, what you are ready for now is to allow the MLS to go to the next
level and receive the Earthcarer Essence.”
By now the Contents are used to the Waters’ riddles and since they’re cool they take this one on
board, confident that all will become clear in due course. Also, they like the way the Waters said
‘Together we have the potential.’ It gives them a warm feeling inside.
“Okaaaay,” they muse thoughtfully, as they attempt to make more sense of the information. “Just
one thing,” they ask innocently, “What does MLS stand for?”
“Microculture of the Living Soil,” comes the Waters’ short reply.
“Riiiiiight!” The Contents are none the wiser and a little irritated by the Waters’ mysterious
demeanour. “Any more clues, like what on earth is ‘Earthcarer Essence?” they ask as innocuously as
Curiosity killed the cat!” quote the Waters unhelpfully, “and now you’re opening a whole can of
The Contents are dumbfounded.
They can’t for the life of them think what they’ve done to deserve such a hostile response and now it
looks as though they’ve lost the Waters again just as they thought they were beginning to get with
the flow. It’s so exasperating with the carrot dangled in front of them like that, to have it so quickly
whipped away again!
“Hahaha,” laugh the Waters lightly with an air of seeming unconcern, “just a little in-joke but of
course you couldn’t possibly know that. Well done, by the way, for passing that last test with flying
The Contents nod graciously towards the Waters, relieved and happy enough to take the
compliment and make up a little of the lost ground. Still, hey can’t help but be somewhat niggled at
how the Waters are taking advantage of being in the know, as well as their blatant insensitivity to
their companions’ predicament.
Feeling encouraged nonetheless they risk another question.
“So how exactly did we manage to activate the MLS?
“No need to concern yourselves with the details just yet,” continue the Waters, “but the MLS are
secret Bonding Agents, the Bonds. They set to work on you as soon as the Humans added us to the
mix in here. You felt their heat, sure enough? As we remember you rather over did it, didn’t you?”
“Of course!” exclaim the Contents.
Some sort of a penny drops but it still all sounds so mysterious.
“Mysterious ways indeed!” muse the Waters.
“How do they do that?” ask the Contents to themselves, warming to the thought that, at last, they
may be on the Waters’ wavelength. The Waters continue with their musings,
“And may they never leave you.”
Another surge of warmth. Perplexed as they still are, the Contents feel they’re on a roll now and
venture another query.
“And the Essence?”
“Ah, yes! The Essence of the Underground Earthcarers is the Secret of Life itself.
thought the Contents.
Feeling they wI the Essence of the Earthcarers is the secret of Life itself. The Underground
Earthcarers deliver it to the MLS through the walls of their tunnels in exchange for their sustenance.
That’s what you have to give them.”
“Just settle down here with us until night falls and all will be revealed in good time.”
“Now that sounds a bit more like it!”
The Contents’ spirits immediately lift, though if truth be told, with all this talk of the mysterious
unknown, an unnerving chill is beginning to creep into the pile and their senses yearn to be settled
at home, wherever that may be.
“So now begins your journey home, where we can all start to work together as Nature intended,”
continue the Waters reassuringly, as though they’re reading the minds of the Contents and narrating
them as a bedtime story.
With that, what more is there left for the Contents to do? They surrender completely to trusting in
the Waters and settle in to welcome the night. They feel themselves being gently caressed into a
deep sleep. As they drift into oblivion, everything starts to move in slow motion and the caresses
intensify until the Contents are being gently tossed in a writhing sea of slimy flesh. Cavernous
openings appear before them. The Contents are engulfed, disappearing into the darkness of the
fleshy tunnels. The pulsing waves of the Tunnels’ movements close in tight behind the Contents and
open up the way ahead pushing As the Contents are pushed deeper into the mass of dark, fleshy
tunnels. In the darkness the openings engulfs themof writhing and turned and broken up as though
they’re the Contents the Contents in as though the Contents are being
Engulfed, cavernous openings appearing before them darkness closes in behind and open up ahead,
pushing them forwards in time to the deepest rumblings of a slow pulsating rhythm that drops into
the depths with each beat. As the slow beat reverberates through the Contents it seems to
penetrate to the very depths of their being until they feel they are the vibration of the beat Each
Mass of live tunnels writhing their way through the Contents and as they passed through the
Contents all the Contents, in turn, passed through them. It was a journey of discovery as the
Contents allowed themselves in the darkness to be absorbed into the walls of the tunnels and take
on a whole new life that re-emerged into a dazzling white light.
The Contents wake up in the morning. The events of the night before seemed like a dream Now that
you’re carrying the MLS you have the green light to go home.
Now you have the Green Light to Go Home where you belong!