This is a blog inspired by a random wiki article
read the article first if you want the story to make real sense
or don’t
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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thunderhead_Mountain

Once, a long long time ago and far far away a group of small mountain people lived in the trees on top of a very very high mountain. No one else lived near the top of the mountain so the Smoky people lived alone in harmony.

They made their homes in the holes in the trees. The mommies and daddies collected feathers and bits of fur and made warm places for the children to sleep. The children played on the branches of the trees, jumping and skipping and hiding.

The Smoky people were small and light green. They had big dark eyes, like melting chocolate. Their ears were tiny and flat against their heads. They all wore trousers made from soft silky leaves. They had hats which looked like the flowers that grew on the trees. Their feet were broad and flat with toes which could grip the tree branches like monkeys.

They could not hear very well though, but they did not need to. They talked to each other in high squeaks and sang like bells tinkling in the wind. The only danger they faced was that from birds. And their ears could hear the high pitched sound a bird’s heart makes as it flies. When they heard a bird coming, they would crouch down, under their flower hats and sit very still under the bird flew away.

The Smoky people were happy all the time. But they were most happy when they could hear god purr. Sometimes the sky would be lit up with great big flashes of light and water would fall from the branches above them. When this happened everyone got excited and would all gather on a branch and look up at the sky. Their little ears would strain to hear the distant rumble of god. They would clutch each other in excitement as they got drenched and saw their world in flashes of light.

And when the rumble of gods purr reached their ears they would leap about it joy, slipping and sliding on the wet branches, grateful to hear the joy of god.

And then one day a strange tall person arrived. He arrived below the Smoky peoples’ trees and brought with him strange large animals that rumbled too and ate all the grass. The man started to cut down the trees to make more space for the strange, chewing, lowing animals. And the happy people had to leave their trees and move to other trees further down the slope.

And still the man cut down the trees and still further from the top of the mountain the little people had to move. The flowers on the new trees looked different and the birds found and carried away some of the Smoky people. The trees were different and some children slipped and fell, vanishing into the green below. The happy people were now sad and lost.

Then one day the water fell and the sky lit up again. The sad people once again sang with joy and gathered at the edge of a branch and listened. They listened more carefully than they ever had. They needed to hear their god purr; they had lost so much else already. But the water fell and the sky lit up and there was no purr. Their god did not purr for them anymore.

And still, to this day, these little people live too far down the mountain to hear the thunder with their little ears. And they think they have lost their god.

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