Once, when the land had no owner and the hills would roll much more quickly, there were two brothers. As boys, they lived with their mother and father in a little stone house by the sea. It sat on the top of an outcrop of granite that glistened and glinted every morning in the wet dawn sunlight. Often, the boys would play in the large green field by the river that flowed into the ocean. That is where the family grew most of their food. 
One day, the two brothers were playing together in the field and one was building a small fort from stones. The walls would get so high but then at a certain point the stones would shift under their own weight and fall over. Every time he built the walls up to that level, they would fall again and again. The brother who was building began to get annoyed and in his frustration, threw a small stone as hard as he could. The stone almost hit his sibling, whizzing past his head and bouncing on the ground behind him, into a bed of root vegetables . His brother shouted 
"Be careful!", 
but in reply he screamed 
"Shut Up!" 
as loudly as he could. The father, who had seen this, decided to walk across and set things straight. With a stern gate, he walked over to the angry brother and sat down beside him. 
"Now listen son, we must never be mean and cruel, you almost hit your brother with that stone, he was right to warn you."
"I understand, father" said the boy softly. 
"Now, about this fort. Sometimes it is better to think things through, and take your time a little more. If the same problem keeps happening at the same time, we need to think about what we have to change."
"I understand, father" said the boy again. And his father went off to continue his work at the other side of the field. 
Later that day, the two brothers were playing outside again. The one building a fort continued, and began to build higher and higher. The other one of them didn't know what to do and so asked his father if he could help. Agreeing to let him, he gave his son a spade and asked him to dig a row of holes for the baby trees in the blue pots by the house. The brother took the spade and then looked at the ground. He didn't know where to start, how many trees or how big the holes. His father pointed to the patch of ground he meant and waited. His son just stood there, thinking. His father said 
"Come on! slow coach!",
in a jesting tone but his son didn't find it funny. Wrapped in worry about the holes he threw the spade to the floor and screamed,
"I can't do it!"
The father didn't approve of this response from his own son and walked over sternly. 
"Now listen son, it is not good to be bad tempered and mean, we must be kind to each other"
"I understand, father" said the boy quietly,
"And as for the holes, sometimes it is best to stop worrying and just try, we can always amend any mistakes and it's not very difficult once you get started"
"I understand, father" he said, and began to dig the holes in the right place. Once the first one was deep enough his father said 
"that's enough, the next one just a couple of paces to the side".
In hardly any time, the boy had dug all the holes and the trees were planted just before dinner. 
During their meal, the father addressed the family.
"I have some important news for you all"
His wife looked at him with caring eyes.
"I have been asked to do some important work, and it will take me far away for a very long time. I cannot deny my responsibility as if I do not go then the consequences will be much harder. I have taught you both well and I know you will be able to care for your mother until I return. I will leave in the morning."
Everyone ate their food in silence after this speech, as the two boys thought about what he had said. It made them very sad that he was going away but they did not question him. He was their father, and he knew best. 
The very next morning, like he said their father went away and did not return. Time passed and the boys grew into men, and one day not long after, they moved into their own homes next door to each other. Many years passed and the two brothers had peaceful and fortunate lives, they grew their food on the family field and looked after their mother who day by day grew older. The sadness of their father leaving for his important work had taken its toll and she had become unwell. They continued to look after her in their own ways but one day they began to argue. 
One said to the other
"I am forever cleaning our mother's house, it is always me doing it, and I am always picking her food from the field. I am still waiting for you to do it as well, you hardly ever do it"
The other brother looked angry and in his haste, spoke out. 
"But that is because it never needs to be done, every time I look, you have done it! But when was the last time you listened to her, and gave her you time to talk. I am forever listening to her and comforting her when she is sad, I am still waiting for you to do it".
They began to fight, first with name calling and pulling faces, then they began to accuse each other of not caring about their mother. This continued for days every time they saw each other and as time went by they stopped talking all together. This went on for many months until one day the tension broke. They were both in their mothers house at the same time. One was washing the dishes and the other was helping her to sort through some letters.  
There was an unopened one on the side.
"Why don't you open this letter, I had forgotten about it?" she asked. 
"He can do it for a change" sang her son loudly, as his brother could hear. Suddenly, a china cup flew threw the air and narrowly missed his head. It hit the glass window pane and smashed it, and it too broke into several pieces. The brothers launched themselves at each other, in front of their mother who by now was very sick indeed. More things were broken including another window as one of the men was flung hard against it. Their mother ran out of the room and cowered in the kitchen, behind the dining table. 
Just then, there was a sound at the door. It unlatched from the outside and swung open. After years of being away, their father had returned! But to his shock and dismay, he saw the broken home and the two brothers fighting and drawing blood from each other's faces. He saw the shattered windows and then found his wife hiding in the other room. 
"What the Devil is going on in here?" he bellowed at his two sons, who he could hardly recognise. "Did I not teach you well?"
"Yes father, you taught me how to think before acting and make sure something is done properly, and that stability comes from time and effort. But my brother seems to have forgotten your wisdom, the stupid idiot!" 
"No, he is the stupid idiot!" shouted the other son, "You taught me well, father, you taught me to act when something has to be done, not to wait around for it to do itself, my idiot brother has forgotten!"
They continued to look at each other with dirty eyes and with threatening body language only remained separated through respect for their father, who they had not seen in years. Then their father replied calmly,
"No, those words of wisdom were for you alone, I spoke only to you when I gave those gifts to you. it is what you needed to hear from me as you, not your brother". He looked at the both one at a time with disappointed eyes. "But what you have both forgotten is that it is wrong to be cruel, bad tempered and unkind. I taught that lesson to you both. You both knew this and you both did not listen. I cannot trust you to look after your mother, and as of this moment, I am taking her to live with me where I have my new job. You two boys can learn to live together first."
Then, in silence, he took his wife by the hand and led her out the door. It closed behind them with a deathly thud and the two brothers stood in the abandoned house, without their mother or father or a friend in the world. 

The End

A short story 
by
Rowan Blair Colver

There once was a man who had a love for gold. He loved its colour, the feel of its slightly malleable surface, its way of reflecting the light. He loved gold so much, he would try and get as many pieces of it for himself as he could. Everyone around him didn't see the appeal, as gold had very little use but for making decoration. It didn't cut very well and it was too heavy to build with. 
As time went by, he found it more and more difficult to find gold as the only supply was becoming scarce. It would be sometimes found in the rocks and in caves, at the riverside and sometimes in the mountains. But the man wandered here and there, looking for gold and he found none. One day, after a few weeks of walking, he had not found any more gold and so went back home, where he had gathered a huge pile of gold in his little wooden house on the hill. He looked at his pile and thought to himself that it was not enough. He wanted a pile of gold so high, he could stand and be completely surrounded by its beautiful reflected light. It was like standing in the bright orange light of the evening sun. 
I must get more gold! He thought to himself in silence, as he paced around the pile of metal. Taking a step outside, he went to see what he could see. Taking a look around at the local trees and rocks, he saw nothing. Nothing but apples, ripe and red. A few birds had begun to sit on branches and started to peck at the bouncing round fruits. A beautiful woman walked up to one of the nearby trees and started picking apples for her basket. She was wearing a golden ring, shining and glinting in the sun. The man's heart raced and his eyes narrowed as he noticed an opportunity.  
"Excuse me, madam, but this tree is within the shadow of my home and therefore its apples belong to me. However, if you wish to give me your ring, you may pick as many apples as you can fit in your basket twice".
She stopped, it was unusual for a man to claim ownership of a tree simply because of where it stood, but his words made sense, in a strange way. "I shall pick apples elsewhere, if you may let me return these that I have picked?" she stated, "But you have picked them now, besides only these apples have been grown to be as sweet and as crisp as my apples, I pay them special attention", he lied but she seemed to accept his claim. "Why do you want my ring?" she asked, "Because it is made of gold" was his simple reply. Not wanting to part with the ring, but also feeling hungry and with an already half full basket, she felt obliged to hand it over. After all, what is a piece of shaped metal compared to two baskets of ripe red apples? The man took the ring and allowed the beautiful woman to pick apples. 
When she returned the following day with an empty basket, she had brought with her a few friends from the village. They all came with various pieces of gold they had taken from their homes, wanting to exchange it for the extra sweet and crispy apples grown with special attention. Handing over their gold, they each took two baskets into the trees around his home and began gathering apples.
After taking several dozen pieces of jewellery, a door knob and some golden leaf from a mantle-piece, he allowed the group to take their double fill.  
After a few days, everyone had given up all the gold they had, the trees were stripped of apples and the man had increased his pile by over a half. His hill of gold in his little wooden house nearly filled the room. He stood by the window and admired the sunlight glinting from its huge disjointed surface and spray its sparkles all over him. He stood and felt warm, strong and powerful. But soon he heard a knock at the door. 
"Hello?" he said, poking his head around the crack in the door, as to not let anyone see his gold. The beautiful woman stood at the front of his little wooden house and she looked concerned.
"There are no more apples on your trees, and there is no more gold left in the village!" she exclaimed, "but people are coming from far and wide to eat your specially grown apples! What are we going to do?"
The man thought for a moment, and he remembered one last tree behind the cluster of rocks a few corners down the path from his home. It wasn't in the shadow of his house but he considered it and then spoke. 
"There is another tree, also with my special apples, but I have been saving it as a secret, for myself. I will share the apples with you, and swap some of my gold if you help me plant all the seeds, that way you get to eat some more, and we can provide for  even more people in the following harvests to come".
Again, his words sounded a little confusing and slightly off the point but it seemed to make a sort of sense and so she agreed. She wanted another basket of apples and visitors had come to her home and expected some. Not wanting them to think poorly of her, or accuse her of lying about the apples, she accepted the agreement. Taking her basket, she filled it with apples and took them home. The following day she returned with a handful of apple seeds which she had saved. "So if I plant these on your hill, in little rows, you will give me some of your gold and allow me to fill another basket?" 
"Yes" said the man, and the woman went outside and spent two whole days putting each little seed in the ground and bringing it water from the nearby stream. After they had all been planted, she knocked on the door of the little wooden house. It opened just a little and the man pushed his face through the crack. He gave her the ring back, that she at first had given him. Her heart flushed with the sentiment of the ring, as it reminded her of the year before when she had a wonderful time. She accepted the ring and walked away with her second basket of apples. 
The following year, a few more trees had grown to maturity and the seeds had sprouted into baby trees. When apple season arrived the whole village arrived also, to sample the specially cared for apples but they only had the one gold ring between them. However, news had travelled further than before and more had come from nearby towns and settlements, and they had more gold. 
The man decided to do the same as before, those with no gold he would offer them work planting the trees, pay them a little gold which they could use to buy more apples. He could picture his pile in his mind growing larger and larger. So with his local village set to work planting apple seeds in the grounds of his home and beyond, and further townsfolk were bringing a fresh supply of gold, he continued to make his pile bigger. This lasted several years and soon the entire hill and the fields below were full of tall apple trees, each growing plenty of apples. The local villagers also had discovered they could find gold for themselves, and news of its value had travelled a long way, so it was becoming a common bartering metal. Every year, the man would declare that all the land under the shadow of his apple trees was his and that he would accept gold in return for two baskets of apples. He continued to accumulate more and more and he had now built a much bigger house from apple wood to keep all his gold in. Soon, after the work of all those who had no gold, so they could eat apples, he had grown a million trees which spanned across from horizon to horizon. People came from the entire span of the land to feed their families. By this time, gold had become so scarce and valuable, most people had begun to work for their apples and so the reach of the orchard almost doubled every year. And as the man had stated, every inch of land that is touched by the shadow of one the trees belongs to him and so the apples must be paid for. 
One day, the man was walking among his trees and he noticed that people were living among them, under the shadow of his trees. He wasn't happy about this as they had not asked his permission. 
He knocked on the nearest door and when it opened he saw the beautiful woman who once gathered the apples outside his home. He had not seen her for a few years.
"Why haven't I seen you for a while?" he asked, "When you live on my land, among my trees?" 
"I am tired of eating apples, I prefer the blackberries and potatoes that grow nearby" she answered, "plus I do not have to give anything up in order to eat them, I just take what I am given by the land".
"But, "the man responded, "This is my land and you are living on it, you are eating food grown on it and you have not asked me permission! Why should I allow you to continue eating from my plants and living upon my rock? What will you give me in return?"
Although the man did nothing and never had -in order to allow the woman to live there, he felt that she was stealing from him, as he believed he owned the land. The persistent lie about the shadow of his home, and then the shadow of the trees had been accepted as true law by himself and by all who lived there.  
"Maybe if you work for me, and help to look after my trees, grow more fruiting plants and keep my grounds tidy, I will allow you to live on them but if you also want to eat you must pay your way like the rest and so if you have no gold to pay then you can earn it as usual. I suppose if you really don't want to, I can find someone else who would be more than happy to live here, in this nice looking house?"
The woman didn't like the sound of being kicked out of her home, but she couldn't think of any argument that made the same sense as his, although she felt cold and disrespected, she reluctantly agreed. It wasn't long before she saw others doing their own thing in their own way, living their lives among the trees and shrubs in the shadow of the apple trees, which were still spreading out across the land. Now several homes and buildings were situated within them. She didn't like that others were free to do as they please, living with nature. Seeing them content and free gave her a bad feeling as she was having to work very hard just to eat one meal a day. So she began to call them names, she began spreading the lies of the man in order to bring what she considered balance into the village. Soon, through guilt and pressure and fear of being rejected by others, everyone in the village was working the land, organising it and creating efficient fields of many fruiting plants. They would swap the fruits for gold from across the land and give it to the man on the hill. In return they would eat a little bit, take a bit of gold for their work and then continue their jobs. As the orchards and the fields spread further, more and more homes began to be situated under the shadows and also, soon there was so little gold left that everyone was working as hard as they could just to eat the apples, blackberries potatoes and now plums as well. Everyone but the man, who sat alone in his big wooden house on the hill, surrounded by gold. It was so full of gold that no light had entered the building for over a year and now also the door was blocked with a huge pile of it outside. As the villages religiously piled their collected gold outside the door, wondering why it wasn't being brought in, nobody considered to notice that the man in the wooden house on the hill, had died a lonely man. He sat upright and motionless in his chair, surrounded by gold and nobody cared. 
But still, the villagers continued to work, to accumulate gold which they piled up high and to not allow themselves their own freedom.  

Please visit the Official Site of Rowan Blair Colver

One Man and His Dog
A short story by Rowan Blair Colver

One day, a man was walking his beloved hound Ranger down by the seaside. He would often walk his dog by the lead right up the the sandy beach and then if it was all clear, he'd untie the lead and watch as his pet dog would bound off along the shore.

This particular day, he saw a family with lots of children playing by the water with buckets, spades and most importantly, they had a picnic and a ball. Knowing that Ranger would likely help himself to the picnic, the ball or possibly both, the man decided to walk the other way with Ranger still on the lead. He knew this was a shared beach and didn't want to be any trouble. As he walked by the sound of the water washing against the sandy ground, he began to talk to his dog, like he sometimes would. 

"I don't know, Ranger, here we are again in the peace and quiet, but my life is still just as noisy. There's work and the new boss is really unforgiving, I've been missing payments on my car so I can get time away, but I'll lose it next month. And then there's Jane, of course she is driving me up the wall with everything she expects, I love Jane but not feeling like a scratching post and a foundation stone. One is enough, Ranger. Thank goodness I have you, I know exactly where we are all the time."

They walked a little further and Ranger was given more run downs of his owners life problems. He didn't mind listening, but none of it made much sense to him. 

"I wish, Ranger, we could have a proper conversation".

The thing is when you make wishes by the seaside, is that sometimes they come true. It could be something to do with the end of the land, the ever changing landscape of one step forward, or maybe its something in the air, but for some reason, Ranger said something back. He said to his owner what he'd been wishing he could ask ever since they met.

"Why is it you keep me, why is it you love me so much?" asked Ranger.

When his owner had stood up, and rubbed his eyes, looked behind him and stood up again, he finally answered. 
"Well, its because I see you as my child. I see you as a simple and lovable being who needs me to look after you, your ways are so pure and loyal and this world is so harsh and tricky, I feel it is my responsibility to provide for you a mature and informed guardianship. I see you playing with your doggie friends, I see you doing what you like and not planning ahead, I see you not doing the things that I would do and I feel compassion for you, I feel like I want to keep you and then show you some of our ways. I teach you to do things like me, sitting down, waiting your turn, rolling over, when you emulate me I feel proud of you. Like I said, you are like a child to me, and I want to protect you from harm."

Ranger paused for a moment while he absorbed everything that had been said. Once he had understood it all, as what he heard had sounded so strange to him, he replied.

"It's funny you say that, because I feel almost the same about you".

The end

please visit The Official Site of Rowan Blair Colver