A Guide Book to the Great Tree (11 page)

MOON FESTIVAL

The eighth full moon of the owl year is said to be the brightest and the roundest. And it is during this time that we owls celebrate the Moon Festival, when families come together, even from the farthest reaches of the owl kingdoms.

The Moon Festival is founded on legend. It is said that there were once three moons in the sky that lit up the night as bright as day. And in the Shadow Forest lived an owl named Vilis, who was the best flier in all the land. He had a beautiful mate named Ilona, who loved him. After
many happy years together, Vilis and Ilona grew old. Vilis found that other owls, younger owls, now flew faster and higher than he. He was chagrined, and vowed that he would not accept his fate. He sought out the mage of the forest, a spider named Zuzanna. “Zuzanna, make me fly as strongly as I did when I was a young owl,” he begged. “I'll do anything you ask in return.”

“Three moons are too bright for me. I think one will suit me just fine. Bring down two of the moons, and everlasting youth and strength shall be yours,” Zuzanna ordered him.

“How can I accomplish such a thing? ‘Tis an impossible task,” Vilis complained.

“My magical elixir will help you to accomplish your task. When I see only one moon in the sky, I will give you more of the elixir, and you will be made young once again. But be warned, the elixir is only to be taken by he who brings down the moons.”

Vilis agreed.

Zuzanna instructed Vilis to take ten drops of the elixir, which gave him the strength of a thousand owls. He flew all the way to one of the moons, grabbed it with his talons, and dragged it toward Earth. He plunged it into the sea, darkening the night sky. He flew to another of the moons
and did the same. Now there was only one moon in the sky, and the night was as dark as it is today.

Zuzanna gave Vilis more of her magical elixir as she had promised, and instructed him to take only one drop a year. The single drop gave Vilis the strength of his youth, and once again, Vilis was the strongest flier in all the land.

A youthful Vilis greeted Ilona when he finally returned home. She was becoming a withered old owl with white feathers and weak wings. This made her sad. She did not want to be old and feeble while her mate appeared to be in the prime of his life. So, one night, while Vilis was out hunting, she sought out her mate's magical elixir, hoping that it would make her young as well. Having no knowledge of Zuzanna's instructions, Ilona took a small swallow from the vial. She could feel the power of the elixir coursing through her, and her feathers regained their color and luster. Thrilled, she flew out of her hollow to find her mate.

But Ilona would never find Vilis again. With just a few wing flaps, she flew all the way to the last moon in the sky. There, the elixir lost its effect, as Zuzanna had divined its misuse. Ilona was trapped on the moon with no way to go home.

Vilis returned to his hollow to find his mate gone. Months passed and she did not come back. Desperate, he
returned to Zuzanna for help. Zuzanna told him of his mate's trespass. She decreed that, as punishment for taking the elixir without permission, Ilona would not be allowed to return to Earth ever again. Vilis was devastated and began to cry. Zuzanna felt pity for the owl who had darkened the sky for her. So, she granted Vilis the opportunity to go to the moon once a year to visit his mate. The two lovers are reunited on the eighth full moon every year, and that is why the moon glows the brightest on this night.

On the night of the Moon Festival, families gather to admire the moon together, sing moon songs, and eat round moon cakes made with nuts and berries. As the full moon begins to dwenk, young owls light lanterns to show Vilis the way back to Earth.

MILKBERRY HARVEST FESTIVAL

The Milkberry Harvest Festival is a singularly Ga'Hoolian festival. At the Great Ga'Hoole Tree, the four seasons are named after the colors of the milkberry vines that cascade from every branch. Winter is the time of the White Rain, spring is the time of the Silver Rain, summer is the time of the Golden Rain, and autumn is the time of the Copper-Rose
Rain. During the time of the Copper-Rose Rain, the milkberries are the ripest and plumpest for picking. The delicious berries of the vines make up a major part of our non-meat diet. Ripe berries are crushed and brewed into tea. They're also made into delicious stews, cakes, and loaves of fragrant bread. The dried berries are used for snacks, for they are highly nutritious and a source of instant energy. Milkberries are as Ga'Hoolian as Hoole himself. This is why the Milkberry Harvest Festival is one of the grandest festivals of the year.

The harvest begins on the second equal night of the year. All classes and chaw practices are canceled for seven days. Even daytime sleep is shortened. For the first three days, the owls at the tree help harvest all the berries and trim the vines. Then, on the third night, the real festivities begin. There is a banquet to celebrate a successful
harvest, which goes on for the next three to four nights. The Great Hollow is festooned with cut vines and berries. Candles make the entire tree glow against the night sky. A huge assortment of milkberry treats are made and eaten. There is joyous dancing and singing all over the Island of Hoole. And more often than not, the older owls get tipsy on milkberry wine and berry mead. During the height of the celebration, owls forgo sleep for as long as they can. But with all the wine, mead, and dancing, a few inevitably pass out before the party is over.

PUNKIE NIGHT

A favorite holiday for fledglings, Punkie Night takes place on the night of the first new moon after the Milkberry Festival. It is a night filled with sweets and mischief.

Young owls make and wear masks that make them look like other species of owls, or even other birds. When Great Grays don Pygmy Owl masks and vice versa, they always get hoots of laughter. While wearing these masks, young owls fly from hollow to hollow, offering songs and dances in return for blessings and gifts of sweets. This is called “galooshing.” Most of the time, owls give out dried
berries and such, but if you are lucky, you might find a hollow that gives out nootie tarts or pine-nut cakes. Of course, you have to work extra hard to earn the
good
sweets. For my first Punkie Night, I wanted to be something really special. So, I did lots of research on rare owl species, and made myself a
Magascops ingens,
or Rufescent Screech Owl, mask. Well, to my disappointment, nobody got it. After that, I stuck to bird species that everyone would recognize.

After galooshing, young owls gather for sweet-swapping and games. Everyone tries to trade loads of the ordinary treats for a few of the good ones. But, to each his own, I suppose—for every owl who hates dried caterpillars, there's inevitably one who loves them. One of the most popular Punkie Night games at the great tree is Blooking for Milkberries. The name of the game comes from the sound that owlets make when they plunge their faces into the water—
blook blook.
Even owlets who have yet to fledge can join in the fun. Milkberries float in a large bucket of water, and blindfolded participants must use their beaks to pick up a berry.

Sometimes, young owls like to play tricks on the grown-ups on Punkie Night—putting sap in their nests, tying their talons together with vine while they sleep, those types of vile tricks. After more than one post-Punkie
Night's rest, I have found myself feather-stuck to my nest. I must say that I do
not
approve of this type of uncouth behavior on Punkie Night—or any other night for that matter.

After the festivities are over, older owls often try to tell the fledglings to ration their treats. But as a matter of course, the young'uns go to sleep the next morning with bellies that ache from too many sweets.

BALEFIRE NIGHT

Balefire Night celebrates the Guardians' command of fire. Since the time of the legends, we have used fire to make tools and weapons, to cook food, and to cast light where light is needed. During the last fine days of the Copper-Rose Rain, owls come together to light the night up as bright as day with a bonfire.

Owls dance around the bonfire, first circling it tightly; then, as the fire burns hotter, the circles grow wider and wider. The more adventurous owls will also fly directly above the bonfire to ride the intense thermal drafts.

As the fire dies down, owls use the hot coals to roast meat and nooties. At the great tree, only cooked meat is eaten on Balefire Night. This is to celebrate the Ga'Hoolian
tradition of using fire to alter food. Most owls eat their meat raw and bloody—there is nothing wrong with this, of course. In fact, I still enjoy the occasional fur-on-meat, freshly caught. As our beloved Ezylryb once said, “You've gotta throw some fur in there for ballast before flying into a hurricane.” But the heat lends the food a certain something. I still remember the first time I tried cooked meat as a young owl. It was as if that roasted bat awakened a part of my gizzard that I didn't know existed.

At the end of the night, coals from the bonfire are retrieved by colliers and brought to the forge to be used on another night.

A
t the great tree, all owls, especially the young ones, – follow a set schedule. There is a time for study and practice, a time for hunting and eating, and a time for simply gleeking about.

An owl's night begins at First Lavender, when the sun begins to dip beneath the horizon and the sky turns a pale blue laced with streaks of purple and pink. Each owl has his or her wake-up routine. This usually involves preening, combing the head with claws, ruffling up plumage, and cleaning claws and toes by nibbling with the beak. This is also the time that the singer of the tree sings her first song of the night, “Evensong.” It is gentle but invigorating, and I have never tired of hearing it.

At tween time, or twilight, the tree really begins to bustle. Many species of owls hunt as twilight descends,
since many kinds of prey are active at this time. At the tree, some owls prefer to wait until tweener for their first meal while others inevitably wake up starving and take to the skies immediately to find a plump bat or vole.

The earliest, not to mention most dreaded, classes and chaw practice begin at tween time. I, for one, believe that it's good for the head and the gizzard to begin the night early, and so, I have scheduled all my introductory Ga'Hoolology classes for this time. The young ones might gripe now, but they'll thank me later. Not all owls have class or chaw practice at tween time, it all depends on your schedule, of course. Those who have free time may choose to spend it in flight or in study at the library. Would you believe that some owls actually sleep in when they don't have early classes? Appalling behavior, if you ask me, leads to laziness and foggy thinking.

Nightfall is called First Black, for the last tinges of gray fade from the sky and it turns the color of cold coal. This is when owls begin gathering in the dining hollow for tweener, the first meal of the day served at the great tree. The nest-maids of the Great Ga'Hoole Tree serve as dining tables for the owls, each snake stretching herself to accommodate at least a half dozen of us. Acorn porridge, roasted tree slugs, grilled bats, and braised mice are all
tweener favorites. And there's always milkberry tea—served piping hot in nut cups.

Chaw practice and classes resume after tweener. I should mention that chaw practices don't occur exclusively at night. Sometimes, chaw work requires that you practice in the middle of the day when one would otherwise be sleeping. I remember being pulled out of a lovely slumber to see a forest fire when I was first tapped for the weather-interpretation and colliering chaws. Directly following tweener parliament has its regular meetings. They don't convene every night, but there is always a lot of business to discuss. Important matters sometimes make themselves known in the middle of the day and cannot wait until the next scheduled meeting. Many parliament meetings have occurred during the bright of day.

One of my favorite times of night at the great tree is teatime. It gives the body and mind a chance to rest after working and studying hard. Milkberry tea has long been a staple at the tree. Many chaw practices and mission strategies have been discussed while sipping the brew in the dining hollow. On a cold night, a hot cup puts a little extra fluff in your feathers. And on a hot day, it's the most refreshing way to refuel. To make this, the most Ga'Hoolian of beverages, the cook procures the ripest milkberries available. A smaka, an invention of Theo's that has changed little in a thousand years, is used to crush the berries into pulp. Hot water and some mint leaves are added to the pulp, and the mixture steeps in a large bucket for several minutes. Finally, the mixture is strained into teapots. In the summertime, the tea is often chilled in the root cellar before it is served. Along with milkberry tea, nootie cakes, milkberry tarts, and berry bread are served at teatime. These are specialties of the tree that I have almost never had outside of our little island.

The darkest time of night comes after teatime. This is when most introductory navigation classes are held, for it's when the stars glow the brightest against the black sky. It is also the perfect time for night flight. There isn't any special purpose to night flight. It really is mostly
recreational. As Boron once told me, newly arrived owls are encouraged to buddy up with other young owls at the tree to “tell a few jokes, yarp a few pellets, and hoot at the moon.” Sometimes, however, young owls have to forego night flight to finish their homework or study for a test the next evening. No owl likes to give up night flight, but such is the way of the scholar.

Breaklight, the last meal of the night, is eaten at Deep Gray, a short time before dawn. Owls gather in the dining hollow once more for a light meal of raw or roasted meat, insects, and even spiders and frogs. Some owls skip breaklight altogether, preferring to hunt during night flight. But even those owls like to go to the dining hollow to share a pot of tea and partake in good conversation.

Just as tween time is the twilight between sunset and night, twixt time is what we owls call the twilight between night and dawn, when the sun has not yet risen above the horizon, but the sky to the east is tinged with orange and blue. The singer sings “Night Is Done,” the goodlight song, to signal that it is once again time to roost. Owls retreat to their hollows to sleep in nests lined with the finest mosses and fluffiest down. Many young owls these days will tell you of how they've drifted off to sleep day after day to the sound of Madame Plonk's voice and
the music of the great grass harp. Others will tell you that nothing feels more tranquil than watching the sun peek over the horizon at First Light.

As the daylight embraces the Island of Hoole, some owls pause to give thanks to Glaux, others reflect on the events of the previous night and make plans for the next night, while still others turn to their books and study just a little bit longer before going to sleep. In the hours when the sun shines its brightest, the owls of the great tree slumber. The next night, they begin their routines once again. May Glaux bless this cycle, night after night.