MINWINGS IN WALES?

 

 

An old stone mill stands on the banks of the emerald River Teifi near the village of Cenarth, South Wales, Britain. Salmon attempt to leap over the spectacular waterfall as it foams over the daunting grey rocks. The birds sing out cheerfully as I stroll along the meandering pathway that follows the river. Buttercups, wild primroses soft moss and delicate ferns decorate the landscape with bright yellows and greens. This is an ancient land. A land where many have trod before. A land of high hedges, sandy beaches, rolling fields and imposing cliffs.

 

 

 

It isn't long before I notice the unmistakeable signs of Minwing life. Pathways leading to small openings at the bottoms of old trees, well camouflaged by vines and greenery.  Tiny piles of petals gathered for soft, fragrant beds to curl up in out of the sun. 

 

 

 

 

                  Miniature footprints on brightly coloured toadstools. What a magical place! Surely, if I sit quietly, I will catch a glimpse of a Welsh Minwing!

 

 

Where does inspiration come from?

While I was writing the Tale of the Island Minwings I took a walk through the fields of my home place on a beautiful autumn day. This wonderful old tree stump peeked out at me from the edge of the woods just begging to be noticed. It not only inspired me to write the chapter about Nimbra visiting the brewery of his friend Raspin, but also encouraged me to do this painting of the same stump at night time. The birch trees in the background, the little door at the front and the golden light shining from inside gave the magical quality I was looking for. 

Nestled in among a growth of fresh white birch trees, stands a worn and gnarly old tree stump, with its roots spread out in wild abandon. The top of the stump is jagged and pointed. The bark is peeling. When approached from a certain angle, the ancient trunk appears to have a face. Between two of the largest roots a small door is almost hidden from view by a tangle of vine.

The cozy warmth of the great-room envelopes Nimbra and his friends as they enter. A rich aroma of apples fills the air. Dominating the north wall is a beautiful clay fireplace, in front of which is a low oval table. On an arc-shaped bench around the table a number of male Minwings are gathered, talking, and drinking cider from snail shells. On the south wall shelves hold wooden casks where the cider is stored.

Nimbra, of course, has molded the furniture out of brick clay. Into the clay of the fireplace he has carved the shapes of all the birds and animals of the woods. It is a work of art! Every Minwing who enters is amazed at the workmanship, and when Nimbra stops by, there is always someone wanting to know his trade secrets.

Nimbra’s oldest friend, Raspin, brews the cider for which the West Woods is so well known. Raspin, a short Minwing with a large belly and rosy cheeks, always wears his long red beard in eleven small braids, one for each generation of his family who has worked as a brewer. He takes great pride in his work and is always ready to tell a story or sing a song to entertain his guests. Minwings come from near and far to taste his cider, which has the distinct flavour of wild apples.

The apples are picked at the perfect moment of maturity, cut up, prepared and lovingly brewed. Crushed wild mustard seed is added to give the rich amber cider that extra bite. 

 

Places in PEI where you might see a Minwing

There are so many places in Prince Edward Island where you might see a Minwing! Toadstools or wild mushrooms are very often frequented by these tiny fairy-like creatures. The colourful ones are their favourite.

Lady Slipper plants are a true treasure in the PEI woodland. They must never be picked or dug up for they will never grow back.  Minwings are in awe of their magical qualities and many a celebration takes place in the vicinity of lady slippers.



























          Minwings have many uses for dried pine needles. They use them to start a fire to cook over and sometimes weave them into small baskets.  The young Minwings, called nimmits have great fun playing among the needles. They like to burrow under them to hide from each other. Be careful when you walk through a pine forest. You wouldn't want to step on a nimmit!

~ Safe at Home ~

Trista goes down into the living quarters and adds some dried pine needles to the ashes in the clay fireplace. It is important to keep the ashes glowing since it takes a long time to start a fire from the beginnings. When the flames have taken hold, she adds some twigs. She reaches for one of her favourite bowls on the shelf above the fireplace and mixes up root flour and other special ingredients to make a light and airy bread which she cooks on a flat stone over the fire. She boils dew water in a large snail shell and measures out the dried rose hip and dandelion root to brew a delicious tea.

A QUIET MOMENT

The next time you walk in the woods and happen to come upon a quick running stream, stop for a few moments and sit quietly nearby. You may think that you're alone. The air is still and filled with the smell of living things. Moss covered rocks are clustered amid the cool water.
Your eyes might be drawn to the new growth on a young spruce tree or the bright green of a lacy fern. A rustle in the leaves signals that a small bird is out looking for its dinner. Ants appear among the dead leaves on the ground near your feet. They hurry to get their endless chores done. 
A squirrel chatters noisily from a treetop. Pale yellow butterflies flutter around your head and a bumblebee buzzes past your nose. All you had to do was stop for a moment to see the beauty of nature. It goes on even when you're not there but things you do or don't do can change everything. Leave only your footprints for the earth is precious and fragile. Keep the memory of this peace you've found, inside your heart.

The perfect spot for Minwing reading!

So many people have told me that they chose exactly when and where they would read my book. My friend, Harriet plans to read it to her granddaughter while she's visiting this summer. Another was taking it to the cottage so she would be able to read it without the interruptions of her busy life. This photo was taken by Juliana who is renting a summer place this week by one of our amazing beaches in PEI.  What a perfect spot to experience "The Tale of the Island Minwings."  
Thanks for the great comments, Juliana!

"Karen, what a wonderful book. It brought me back to when I was a little girl and lived on our dairy farm near New London. I used to go to the spring by the woods in the pasture and imagine little creatures living there. I would do this especially in the winter when the ice formations looked like little ice castles and I imagined little people living in them. You brought these imaginings to life by your Minwings creations. All of the descriptions are so perfect, anyone who grew up near the Shores of PEI can relate and anyone who wishes they lived here, will want to come and experience it for themselves. The illustrations set the tone perfectly. What wonderful pictures. Congratulations on your book, now, we need another one to continue the story of the Island Minwings."

And another one from my friend, Sandra who read the book while on vacation this summer.
 Utterly captivated by Minwings!!! and a little human named Lilly!!
Karen, I am absolutely speechless. I have long been in awe of your talents as an artist, but now I have no words! I am soooo happy I saved the bulk of your story for my vacation. I could not have chosen a more peaceful or magical place in which to get lost in the adventures of Shasta, Lilly, and their families!
Know how I decide if I am involved in a wonderful book? If I start fretting that it will be over early in the story. This morning I did everything I could to slow myself down, but the breeze was blowing, the river was drifting, the birds were busy, and I had great coffee.There was no stopping!
I plan to have a fantastic time replaying scenes in my head this afternoon while I drift down the river.
THANK YOU! and once again, CONGRATULATIONS!!
Sandra

The Tale of the Island Minwings, which was launched on May 26th, 2012, is a beautifully-illustrated story written by Karen Slater, for children aged eight to twelve, or for anyone who still has a child within their heart. 
 

"Imagine for a moment that you can fly – high above the blue waters of the Gulf of St. Lawrence – to the north shore of Prince Edward Island. You’ll spy the sea-worn breakwater jutting into the white-crested waves at the end of the Cavendish sand dunes. Seagulls, looking for their next meal, dip and dive in the wake of a lobster fishing boat headed into the harbour. Gently rolling fields, in a wide array of greens, yellows and reds, stretch up from the brick-red cliffs of sandstone which guard the shores of New London Bay.

Here, in a sheltered cove, you’ll find a small woods. In this woods near a rippling stream, lives one of the last remaining colonies of a most wonderful race, the Minwing. A Minwing you say? Well, most humans have never even heard of, let alone seen, one of these tiny, fairy-like creatures, for Minwings are very shy and try to avoid being found. Perhaps a child or two has met one but somehow forgotten. More than likely their unbelieving parents have convinced them that it was just a figment of their imagination!

If you take a stroll through this woods, and you are very quiet and extremely fortunate, you may see Shasta emerge from the dappled shade of a poplar. She flies to an oak tree on the edge of a small clearing and lands on a sturdy branch. Folding her delicate pale-green wings and tucking in a wisp of her bright red hair that has escaped from her hood, she takes a moment to catch her breath. She feels safe, knowing that her cloak camouflages perfectly into her surroundings.

Closing her eyes, Shasta allows the muted sounds of the woods to lull her mind into a rare state of relaxation. Ahhhhh! The wind is soft and the air is sweet." 

~~~~~~~~~ 

     A lot of people ask me, “When did you decide to write a book?” I tell them, “I didn't decide. My book decided that I would write it.” One night, about four years ago I woke up and had the beginning of the story in my head. Lucky for me, I found a pen and paper and wrote it down. In the morning I read over what I had written and was surprised by how good it sounded. This continued for many nights after that. Each time I added to the story I was excited to think that I was actually writing a book!

     But it wasn't always that easy. There were times when I had no idea what to write next. That's when I got help from my friends and family. Their ideas and suggestions got me going again. During that winter my life was literally taken over by Minwings. I was determined to finish the story!

     When the story was complete I felt that it should have illustrations.  I am an artist but human form has never been my strong point.  While visiting my daughter in Halifax I was fortunate enough to be shown a sketchbook of one of her friends, illustrator Sydney Smith, who received his BFA from NSCAD (Nova Scotia College of Art and Design). As soon as I saw his work, especially his pen and ink, I knew that I wanted him to illustrate my book.  His ability to interpret description into visual art and his amazing attention to detail add exactly the right touch to my Minwing story.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nimbra, Shasta's papa, meets Munroe in 

Chapter 5.

 

It is at one of these stops that Nimbra sits down to have a rest between the large roots of an old maple tree. He looks up through the thick branches at the full moon. “What a wonderful sight,” he whispers.

A dark shape flies across the moon’s face. Quickly Nimbra flattens himself against the tree, stuffs his tri-lite under his cloak and strains his tired eyes into the distance.

What was that? He sits quietly for a few moments and stares, unblinking, at the moon. Nothing. I must have been imagining things. Warily he gets up and continues on his way. Just as he steps out of the woods into an open meadow, the unmistakable call of a shrike breaks the silence. Nimbra knows for sure that the bird is swooping in for the kill. And he is the target! He has only a moment to decide what to do. He can just make out the shape of a hollow log in the long grass. Without pause he flies to the opening and dives in. The flap of wings close behind him proves that he has made the right decision.

Cowering in the darkness and shaking from head to toe, Nimbra takes deep breaths of the damp air. “You’re all right,” he whispers. “Calm down.” His heart feels like it’s going to jump out of his chest.

Still feeling more exposed than he wants to be, he squeezes back further into the musty log. A high-pitched “squeak” pierces the air. Nimbra jumps in fright – as much as one can jump inside a log. “Ouch!” he says, as his head makes contact with the rough wood.

“Get off my foot!” squeaks a voice.

“Who’s there?” asks Nimbra, stepping back and squinting into the darkness.

“Who wants to know?” the voice threatens.

“I warn you. You’ll not take me easily,” cautions Nimbra, preparing himself for a fight.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to eat you,” laughs the voice.

“That’s a relief,” answers Nimbra, “I couldn’t handle the possibility of being someone’s future dinner for the second time in one night.” He manages to remove the tri-lite from his cloak and shines it in front of him. There, squished into a crevice, sits a young, but confident, grey field mouse, shielding his eyes with his foot.

“Get rid of the light, if you please. It’s hurting my eyes! I’ve had a hard enough time as it is evading that stubborn shrike, without having to put up with the likes of you, that’s what!”

“Sorry,” replies Nimbra, “but you startled me nearly to death.”

“I might say the same thing, if I hadn’t already gone through my ten lives in one hour,” grumbles the mouse. “I’m Munroe. My friends call me Squeak . . . and you’re obviously one of those cheeky Minwings.”

“I’m Nimbra. I’m just returning from the bay-water after a hard night’s work,” he says, puffing out his chest indignantly.

“Hm! More likely you’ve been at Raspin’s, that’s what,” grumbles the mouse, sniffing the air. “You positively reek of apple cider! As if you could fool someone with MY sense of smell! Well, you might as well settle in. That annoying creature is still out there.”