Clara’s world … the sky sucks

Musings, Poetry, , , , ,

Teaser

© 2026 John Healy
Draft 7-24-2026

Introducing Clara’s world

Chapter 1

The sky sucks
(the glittering cage)
(celestial obscura)

“The sky sucks!” – an earworm hissed.

As the swing lifted her toward the sky, Clara smiled, “Oh, Grandpa … your chant’s like a spell over me. How your face glowed when you spoke of the way it used to be. Is your spirit in the sky? Or does it linger nearby?“

She came back to earth; pulled out an antique telescope from her backpack; then cradled it on her lap. She liked to point it toward tiny gaps in the industrialized sky, searching for real stars beyond the mosaic ceiling of orbiting debris. Sometimes to identify dots on one of Grandpa’s charts, picture mythic figures in the cosmic sea.

The telescope was one of the few objects – surviving analog things – to remember her Gramps by. There was a small shelf in his bedroom with some old sky charts, books about astronomy.

His long-lived parrot “Mirage” had passed soon after; now there was just an empty cage in that corner of the house. He would talk with the bird about the sky. She doubted that the pet understood anything he said; yet, it would answer with words like:

Big Dipper points North, Polaris! …
Belted Orion’s foot runs blue, Rigel! …
The Bull attacks red, Aldebaran! …
Great Dog shines bright, Sirius!”

But Mirage remained silent when Grandpa talked about the Milky Way. Just ruffled its wings.

And there was the memorial … still visible at the other side of the front yard in the night’s shimmer. He’d sketched out a pattern of stones for her to place on the grave. It had to do with the sky; but some of it remained a mystery. The words on his marker merely said, “Someday we’ll find our way home.”

Clara alighted from the swing. Put the scope away. She picked up her drawing stick, a braided hazel twig; held it like a magic wand; then, once more, started to sketch in the sand what she imagined above.

The range was quiet. The sky a glitter, the early moon a flea-bitten crescent.

In the east, the latest “skyfall” had burned out. That earworm echoed again. “Oh, well,” she sighed.

She hummed softly as she walked back to the house. Candles dimly shone through cracks in the dining room’s velvet drapes. Was her stepmother doing anything unusual?

Chapter 2

Clara’s song (by nobody+1)
(stationary beacons no more)

The stars do not stay still for her
They wink and glint like sequin sparks
A silver lace of lights and blur
That crawls across the shallow darks

She sits upon the porch alone
Her fingers tracing out a ‘verse
Imagined when old legends shone
Now hid behind a man-made curse

Gramps used to say about the sky,
“That junk is not a screen of rocks,
it’s NOT what people used to spy,
WE built that roof of metal blocks!“

No tears well up inside her gaze
She never saw the quiet deep
Before the smash of circling daze
And cosmic dark was left to seep

She sees the cage as wizardry
Decked out with flecks of gilded dreck
Kaleidoscopic mystery
That locks away all off-world trek

She watches as the moon is crossed
By tiny fleeing gnats of black
A world of crafts forever lost
Without a way of going back

She does not grasp the sky once clear
She does not know an ink profound
And dwells spellbound upon the sphere
That pins her deftly to the ground

Notes

🚦 🚧 🚀

[1] Washington Post > Look at Earth’s orbit. This mess is dangerous. by Britt Lundgren and David M. Klein (7-20-2026)

The reflections from millions of debris shards would collectively increase light pollution worldwide, making astronomical observations more challenging even in the most remote locations on the planet. But even if Kessler Syndrome never materializes, light reflected from space debris is projected to increase night sky brightness by as much as 20 percent more than its natural level within the next decade

• Wiki > Kessler syndrome

Some astronomers have hypothesized Kessler syndrome as a possible or likely solution to the Fermi paradox, the lack of any sign of alien life in the universe. Any intelligent civilization which becomes spacefaring could eventually extinguish any safe orbits via Kessler syndrome, trapping itself within its home planet.

[2] Braided twig, such as:

• Gemini

“Three slender hazel branches are tightly coiled into a natural braid, their gnarled bark forming a rustic, sturdy wand that rests perfectly in the palm.”

[3] Hazel wood folklore and witchcraft

My teaser hints at atavism in the unwinding of an eclipsed golden era of technological agency and hope.

Hazel wood acts as a metaphor for recovering a sense of agency and security. For example, divination and dowsing. Or protection (for oneself and property) from the lurking effects of failing & falling industrial artifacts (akin to demons & lightning).

• Wiki > Hazel

“The Hazel Branch” from Grimms’ Fairy Tales claims that hazel branches offer the greatest protection from snakes and other things that creep on the earth.

• Gemini

In folklore and witchcraft lore, hazel is one of the most sacred and magical woods in the world, deeply tied to wisdom, protection, and divination.

[Example] Witches, sorcerers, and local cunning folk have historically used V-shaped hazel branches as dowsing rods (also called water-witches). It was believed that a freshly cut hazel fork would twist violently in the hand to reveal hidden underground water, buried gold, or stolen treasure.

[Example] Hazel is a fierce protective wood. In old European folklore, a circle drawn on the ground with a hazel branch offered absolute protection from dark magic and demons. Travelers wore hazel twigs in their hats to ward off lightning and shipwreck, and cattle were touched with hazel switches to protect them from being cursed by rival witches.

[Example] In traditional European witchcraft, hazel is the standard wood used for making wands. Because it is associated with the element of Air, it is seen as an excellent conductor for directing thought, intent, and energy. In the famous fairy tale Cinderella (the older Grimms’ version), it isn’t a fairy godmother who grants her wishes, but a magical hazel tree that grows over her mother’s grave.

• Wiki > Cinderella

The first European version written in prose was published in Naples, Italy, by Giambattista Basile, in his Pentamerone (1634). The story itself was set in the Kingdom of Naples, at that time the most important political and cultural center of Southern Italy and among the most influential capitals in Europe, and written in the Neapolitan dialect. … [His collection of oral folk tales] included the tale of Cenerentola, which features a wicked stepmother and evil stepsisters, magical transformations, a missing slipper, and a hunt by a monarch for the owner of the slipper.

The name “Cenerentola” derives from the Italian word cenere “ash, cinder,” an allusion to the fact that servants and scullions of the time were usually soiled with ash, partly as a result of their cleaning duties and partly because they lived in cold basements and so tended to huddle close to fireplaces for warmth.

[4] Locale and vibe of story

So, where is Clara’s story centered? There are many parts of the United States which might fit (aside from the possibility that it’s not even on our planet). My favored locale has some key elements: big skies, sandy stretches of land, hazel trees, ranches & scrub, coastal horizons.

  • Carries a certain irony connected to the unwind of techno-optimism, like the legacy of Silicon Valley.
  • Experiences, perhaps, an oddly high incidence of “skyfalls” – sort of a mystical attractor of space debris. A sense that “the chickens are coming home to roost.”
  • Presents a vibe which counterposes a “move fast and break things” mantra with a realigned magical (“spiritual”) wiser way, so as to offer resources and hope – incubates resiliency.

Turns out that the area around Point Reyes, California, offers those elements.

• Nature in Novato > Minor Trees Part II: Small Trees and Shrubs (July 31, 2018)

• Gemini quotes

The absolute perfect location for this is Point Reyes National Seashore in Marin County, just north of San Francisco. [1, 2, 3, 4]

It is one of the only places in North America where a character can stand in a native hazelwood forest, look out over massive sandy beaches, and walk straight into historic cattle ranches and wild, coastal scrubland. [1, 5, 6, 7]

The Landscape Mix

  • The Ranches & Scrub: The peninsula features a massive, historic farming area known as the Pastoral Zone. It is a starkly beautiful, windswept landscape of rolling hills, old fences, and cattle pastures bordered by thick coastal sage scrub and coyote brush. [6, 8, 9, 10, 11] 
  • The Sandy Stretches: Immediately bordering these ranches are sweeping expanses of sand, like Limantour Beach and Drakes Beach, where the Pacific ocean crashes into the shore. [12, 13] 
  • The Hazelnut Trees: Just inland from the beaches and pastures rises Inverness Ridge. The deep, foggy valleys and creek beds running down this ridge are packed with moist, shaded woods where the native California Hazelnut flourishes. [5, 14, 15, 16] 

The Contemporary Vibe

Point Reyes provides an incredible, atmospheric backdrop for a modern-day wizard. A character could live in a converted barn or a rustic coastal home, forage their braided hazel wand from the misty, moss-covered forests on the ridge, and practice their magic out in the isolated, wind-beaten desert-like sand dunes or the wide-open, fenced rangelands. [1, 6] 

References

[5] Another interesting connection with Hazel (wood) and glimmering air is Yeats’ poem “The Song of Wandering Aengus.” – “I went out to the hazel wood … And cut and peeled a hazel wand …”