Peachtober 2022
Peachtober is an annual art challenge hosted online by Sha’an D’anthes (known by her handle Furry Little Peach) during the month of October
Day 1, Cave
The witch enters the cave, stars and jewels twinkling mischievously all along the cavern walls. She brings out her wand to illuminate her journey, a ghostly glow trailing behind her as she descends
down
down
down.
She can sense that it’s here somewhere, it’s magic pulsating throughout the cave, whispering
find me
my power is yours for the taking
if only you can find me
But whilst there is only the single entrance into this hiding place, the tunnels and hollows are endless.
Oh, which way to go?
Left? Right?
Or must she continue the descent
Down?
Day 2, Dandelion
And WHOOSH, she was off!
The ground drifted farther and farther, all the fields swaying in the wind alongside her, melting together until the countryside became a grassy stream guiding her journey.
She loved flying.
The breeze running its fingers through her hair, the sun kissing her cheeks and her tickling her nose, nothing could compare to the serene bliss of the sky for her.
The sea of grass whispered and murmured, singing, which way she best ought to go
Through fields of lavender
And fertile meadowlands
The blades will part to show a path
A path
To the familiar which calls for you
Whose soul is old but life is new
Find them
At the home those who are lost, looking
for new beginnings.
She followed the song, and the racing clouds, until in the distance a home with a cobblestone path appeared.
As she neared, the lights turned on
Has someone been expecting her?
Day 3, Cowboy
Heard yer were lookin’ fer a familiar
The directness of the question stunned her for a moment. The witch didn’t bother asking how he could possibly have known - a Cowboy thing, she assumed.
Yes, I suppose I am.
Well, yer definitely in the right place! I’ve got all kinds of critters, lil’ rascals that’ve gotten into all sorts of mischief and needed mendin’. I fix ‘em up and send ‘em on their way!
She looked around the ranch, spotting familiars ranging from common to those presumed extinct, roaming and playing with one another - even dragons flying in the distance.
What do you have available?
Oh, any old thing that’d take yer fancy I’m sure I’ll have; I’ve got yer common bugs, goblins, a few cats and owls, a tiger-
A tiger, you say?..
Day 4, Tiger
You are mine
And I
Am yours.
We’ll look after one another
Until the end of our days
Or the end of the stars,
Now rise,
My familiar,
For our journey awaits.
Day 5, Bow
There’s somewhere I need to go. Will you take me there?
She conjured a bow, velvet glittering in the sunlight like stars, and tied a bow around her familiars neck.
This should work just fine!
Now, take me to where the stars meet the earth, where the weeping trees caress the grass.
In leaps and bounds, their journey has begun
Day 6, Trees
She rooted herself down, among the trees, listening intently to the wisdom they had to share. The twinkling of the stars among their leaves, their soft voices speaking of witches from long ago. She came here, like every witch before her, to listen and learn, and to revive the forest to ensure that magic would be abundant for generations to come.
But that could be done later, for now, she would lean against the trunk of the wisest tree - for now, she would rest.
Day 7, Potion
She stood before the cauldron, heart beating excitedly to have reached this point of her witch-hood
Ba-dum Ba-dum
Ba-dum Ba-dum
BA-DUM
She whispered the words like so many before her, gently stirring in each ingredient, folding them into the potion one by one - there would be no rushing this. It began to bubble, it began to brew, her whispers turned to chants, and chants into singing, the magical incantation filling the forest with its melody.
And, FINALLY! It begun; the ascent of the stars to the heavens, their ethereal glow giving her kisses as they floated up
Up
Up
Filling the world with magic for the next generations.
Day 8, Mask
Music filled the air, the notes dancing with one another as they were carried by the breeze. The festivities have begun!
Familiars donned their masks, their bodies filled with magic and glee, singing their praise with laughter as the stars continued to rise. She watched them from afar.
Perhaps in the next century. But not tonight.
She began her trek back to the edge of the forest, where her own familiar was waiting for her, as the writhing, laughing masks continued to dance. The carnival would not end until all the stars have completed their ascent, their cheeky glow caressing the earth with their magic for the next century to come.
Day 9, Boulder
Tread carefully, these boulders are finicky.
Finicky indeed.
You could feel them shifting underfoot, how they restlessly tossed and turned, outraged that anyone had the audacity to step on them.
She murmured to them each step, crooning at them, gently persuading them to allow her and her familiar to pass.
With a few more creaks and groans as they shifted, the boulders begrudgingly stilled.
Light footed and armed with compliments for the boulders, she quickly crossed the bridge - and when finally they made it to the other side, both heaved sighs of relief. Neither dared to turn back as they heard monstrous crashes and cracks - afraid to see of the collapse that had threatened them with each unsure step across the bridge.
Yes, finicky indeed.
Day 10, Lantern
The lantern’s glow gently pushed back the night, allowing a moment of respite. It had a been long day, and many more before that, but finally they could rest. Stars twinkled gleefully as they bobbed along the sky, all taking their time to have a look around, enjoying the journey whilst they journeyed to their final destinations. Some would go this way, and some would go that way, each star bringing hope and magic to a darkened nook of the world.
She watched them lazily, eyes growing heavier and heavier, eyelashes caressing her cheeks one last time before she succumbed to the sweetest of dreams beneath the night sky.
Day 11, Field
Flowers bloomed all around, one by one, lifting their heads to greet the sun.
A sea of hues as far as the eye could see; yellows, reds, blues, purples, a feast of colours for all who had the pleasure to behold the flowers.
She could stay here forever.
Day 12, Lava
She watched the lava as it glided, lazily careening this way and that. The elevator dinged on arrival, a twinkle, the words above the door illuminated
L I F T
She entered the elevator and began her journey upwards. The lava was soft and enveloped her entire being, neither hot nor cold, but the lukewarm of a bath you can’t convince yourself to leave.
The ascent was slow - there was no need to hurry. She had all the time in the world before she would speak to the spirit on the top floor.
Day 13, Tail
And so the game began, a thrilling chase of cat and mouse!
Her eyes narrowed, whiskers began sprouting from her twitching nose, ears became pointier and pointier. They flicked as they listened out for the little beats of the frightened mouse
thump-thump
thump-thump
A tail began to mischievously peak its way out of the way - it was time to play.
Her claws came out, her fangs came out, oh, the chase,
the chase!
Day 14, Town
She was off to the markets!
Even a witch needs something as mundane as groceries, after all.
She was going to make a D E L I C I O U S chicken broth, the secret behind every amazing dish. She would need to look around for;
A Chicken, one that is fat and has had a decadent life
Vegetables; capsicum, tomatoes, leek, celeriac, carrots, onions, garlic, celery, all from a farm that sings them lullabies each night and greets the crops each morning
Salt, from a sea near a town where the people have amber eyes and coils in their hair
Black Pepper, collected by an exiled soul who is making their way back home
Herbs; parsley, thyme, and oregano, grown in the backyard of a witchling
Only the best would do for this witches broth!
Day 15, Shell
It was calm, and it was quiet inside the snail house.
It was peaceful.
The witch brewed her potions, the cats peering at her - admiring her handiwork. The snail moved slowly through the world at, well, a snails pace. The sweet smelling smokes gently filled the shell, easing their way out of the chimney, trailing behind like the smoke of a train. The witches journey within the shell was a smooth one, with plenty of scenery and time for naps -
What more could one want?
Day 16, Trunk
Here will do.
The Witch set her trunk on the ground, and opened it. A glow and a twinkle filled the air as the magic began to work. She peered into her trunk - what was used to be empty space had become stairs, leading down to an underground railway.
She gingerly stepped in - she had used the magic railway many times, but never did get used to the initial feeling of stepping through the trunk portal. Muscle memory led her downwards, feet navigating the uneven steps on their own as her mind wandered. She had business to attend to, and whilst flying would forever be her preferred mode of transport, the journey she was about to embark was too far to take to the skies.
The sound of a train fast approaching made its way up the stairs - she was going to miss the train! Grumbling she began to hurry, first skipping a step here and there, until she found her irritation giving her enough flight to jump 10 at a time. The end of tunnel was fast approaching, and with the platform came sight of the train - hurry hurry hurry!
Day 17, Snow
It was cold in Snow Town. Freezing, in fact.
She watched the train leaving the station, her teeth chattering away along with the wheels. The witch looked around - snow, snow, and, oh, more snow. And an owl - perched on the roof of the head house, its eyes boring into her.
Hello, little one.
There was no response, but rather an added intensity in the owls stare. Its white feathers ruffled in the cold breeze, an iridescent sheen to them; lilac, pink, blue and a glean of gold.
She shivered, from more than just the cold. The silence of the station was deafening. Lifeless, save the owl who stood still as a statue and silent as the falling snow.
Day 18, Wing
She spread her arms as wide as she could, each finger ruffling like a feather, her wings encompassing the whole sky. Flying was always bliss, but on this particular night, it was a magic like no other.
The night was serene, the breeze just right. Stars twinkled overhead, lighting the safest route home. The Owls came out to play with the Witch; they weaved, they soared, they did figure eights! It was a bash, it was a blast, it was a night to remember.
Day 19, Boot
These boots were made for walkin’
But even the finest pair of boots need maintenance from time to time. Luckily for the Witch, she knew of a gnome with talents like no other. A cobbler, who lived in a shoe (how fitting).
Day 20, Spaceship
The witch peered deep into her crystal ball. The stars were all disappearing, and with them the world’s magic. But who could it be? And how?
She mumbled an incantation, coaxing the peering glass into showering her what she seeks, until - hazily, a vision rippled to the surface.
A being, without life and yet still living, riding in what appeared to be a whale made out of metals and glass. It was swimming, no flying, through an inky darkness, pinpoints illuminated with glorious sparkles.
The beast had a translucent belly, filled with the glimmering balls of magic.
Who was this being, and why were they stealing the stars?
The Witch wondered…
Day 21, Bun
It was warm in the kitchen. Not unpleasantly, but like a heavy blanket on a winters night.
It was quiet and serene - the only sounds were the gentle thump thump thump as the Witch carefully kneaded her dough. She caressed it, she shaped it, she rolled it this way and that.
It steadily rose, it’s fragrance filling the healing den.
She would take her time, and she would labour over it lovingly.
For after all, food is the best way to heal those around her, and she took great care in doing so.
Day 22, Globe
For many years The Witch has traversed the globe, and she will continue to do so for many years to come.
She seeks out those that need help, need hope, a light to guide their way. She replenishes the earth, nourishes it with love and care it deserves. No creature, person nor plant knows hunger or misfortune when she crosses their path; her magic is given freely to those in need of it.
As every Witch before her, and every Witch yet to come, she is a servant to the Earth and its inhabitants. Every morning she will raise the Sun and every night she shall dust the sky with Stars - never will the world be lacking Magic.
Day 23, Sprout
The Witch took great pride in her garden.
She made sure all the plants were happy, that their roots were just right and that the sun gave them kisses. She lovingly watered them when they got thirsty, and sung to them each day - and in return, her crops were bountiful. Fruits sweeter than children’s laughter, vegetables that harmonised the most stunning melody when cooked together.
And the flowers - oh, the flowers.
They bloomed to greet her each morning, and swayed with the breeze to bid her goodnight.
The Witch loved her garden
And her garden, loved her.
Day 24, Castle
The forest was quiet. Nothing but the slightest of winds shifting the leaves made a sound.
The Witch had ventured deep - deeper than she had intended. She had only been foraging for berries and mushrooms, when the forest had started to become more silent the farther she went.
The silence had unnerved her.
She knew these woods, knew their usual songs and chitters. The silence could mean one of many things, but a tingling pull on her magic had her wondering if a certain house had come to visit.
She pushed past trees and brambles, meandering through the roots of the increasingly denser trees, until she quite by accident stumbled across a clearing.
And sure enough, The Hut lay ahead.
A behemoth of a building, it’s scraggly, sagging roof leaning more to one side than other, it’s unmatched windows slipping right along with it. The Hut’s legs were splayed before it, weary from the undoubtably long journey it took to get here.
The door slowly c r e a k e d open,
ENTER it said,
and so she did.
Day 25, Robot
There are days where you’re so tired that you can’t bring yourself to lift a finger for even the things you love. Luckily, The Witch had just the spell for that - a spell which brought to life that which usually stood still.
With a wave of her hand the garden became alive around her, well, the gardening tools that is. They sprung to life, excited to be helpful! They milled this way and that, tending to every plant with the love and care of The Witch flowing through them.
She sighed and made her way to a well worn hammock in a hidden little nook of her garden. She laid down with a sigh, her aching bones forming themselves perfectly within the hammocks embrace. Perhaps she would dream in the sunlight..
Day 26, Land
She knelt down to the puddle, gently easing her basket beside her. It had been a light shower at dusk, stars dusting the morning sky as they trickled down to the earth.
The Witch picked them up, one by one, placing them into her basket. She took her time - there was no need to rush. She’d collect what she could, and the rest would ease their way below the surface, making their way to a mirrored world which only those filled with Magic could visit.
Day 27, Sea
Bubbles rose above her, little pockets of hope meandering their way to the surface. The fish watched, unsure of this intrusion into their otherwise still domain.
The Witch tried not to panic.
She had to find it. She had to.
A glow liked her vision, the undending blue began to get a green hue.. there, above her!
She lunged, she reached, she desperately swam upwards. She thrashed through the waves, her hands hoping to brush against it with each stroke towards the surface.
She had to reach it.
It was her only way home
Day 28, Plant
Day 29, Whale
She sat, cosy and snug, bundled up in her comfiest chair with a book.
The journey was slow, the pace unhurried, the movement of the whale as gentle as the morning tide. It sang to her as they swam - a song so melancholy, you could not help but wonder what loss this whale has felt in its long life.
Sunglight broke its way beneath the blue surface, distorted rays caressing the whale, warming its soft and mossy back.
