Folktale Rooted in My Drawings

 She pauses at the river’s edge, letting the cool water touch her hands, as if the forest itself has offered her a quiet blessing

 

© 2026 Aga, author of Art in Cupboard. All rights reserved.
This original creative work is my own. It may not be copied, reproduced, republished, modified, distributed, commercially used, scraped, used for AI training, or presented as the work of another person without my prior written permission.

 

A quiet idea followed me — a folktale trying to bloom inside my drawing.

In the tale, the girl walks the forest path exactly as she does in my sketch: her figure light, her steps cushioned by mosses, ferns bowing at her ankles. The cool day wraps around her, and from the far mountains the falcon calls — a thin, wandering cry, like a line drawn across the sky.

The wind meanders between the branches, stirring the same textures I try to catch in ink: the hush of leaves, the soft chorus of voices, the mystery whispers that slip into the page. 

Beyond the trees lies a blooming meadow, just as I’ve drawn it — simple, open, bright. And beside it runs a river, clear and narrow, shaped by the same careful strokes that guide my hand. She kneels to drink, unaware of the little creatures sketched in the margins — curled close to the cool water, sipping quietly.

Night gathers. The forest’s echo fades under the midnight moon. Mist rises, and she stands with a lantern whose warm light flickers like a trembling highlight on paper. Across the delicate lake, the swans glimmer — their shapes smooth and pale, drifting like the soft lines that form their wings.

One swan glides toward her, its path steady and serene. When the swan neared, its reflection rippled into silver threads, and the lantern’s glow trembled across the lake.

They say the forest creatures watched her from the ferns and riverbanks — the same creatures sketched in the corners of my pages. Some were small enough to hide beneath moss, others quiet enough to move only when the wind moved with them. They followed her lantern’s glow, not in fear, but in recognition, for they knew the marks of a gentle traveller. 

And long after she vanished into the midnight mist, the creatures remained, carrying her tale in their bright eyes and soft steps — just as the drawings carry them now, holding the story in every line.

By the same river, the creatures drink in silence, sharing the moment with her — gentle companions of the path she follows

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Thank you for visiting my quiet corner of the internet.
© 2026 Aga, author of Art in Cupboard. All rights reserved.
This is my authorised personal blog and contains my original writing, drawings, photographs, and other creative work. All such content belongs to me unless otherwise stated.
No part of this blog may be copied, reproduced, republished, modified, distributed, commercially used, scraped, or used for AI training without my prior written permission.
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