Tales From The House of Worship Blues: The Baba Yaga

I have found a most charming artisan and custodian of creatures from the Faerie Tale realm. Recently I bought a few items from her that have churned my imagination and conspired with my sleepless mind to make me do this:

Have you heard of The Baba Yaga My Lovelies?

You have not?


Then sit by me dear reader and draw your curtains closed. Let’s sip on our tea while I tell you a tale of an impossibly Old Lady who sometimes wanders though my forest and casts her shadow across my walls.

Baba Yaga is a witch of sorts that hails from old Russia my dear. She has teeth of wrought iron and the boniest legs that you have ever seen! She has a voracious appetite yet remains as spindle-like as her bones. Her nose stretches far longer than it ought to and she travels about the the lands squatting within an enormous mortar with a pestle as her oar. Day in day out, she hauls herself along the floors of the House of Worship Blues forests or she takes flight and crosses the skies above us in her search for some mischief.

You know when she is here my dear for you the wind begins to howl and bellow. The trees shudder in her wake and the air turns into an icy mist.


Though I often catch a fleeting glimpse of her shadow or hear her muttering and mumbling close by, I can tell you that she is not a careless creature. Alas, she is a leery old soul and she goes to great lengths to conceal all trace of her visits.

My groundsman tells me that he has heard stories that she has come to settle in a small hut deep within our forest. He has heard that her hut is a ghastly construction that sits top of a pair of large chicken legs. The windows appear to search the forest like roving eyes.

Perhaps we ought to be shaking in our boots dear readers? Perhaps we ought to find a way to chase her away?


We cannot and we shall not for we have nothing to fear. We have heard from a wise source (Angela Carter’s Book of Fairy Tales) that Baba Yaga has no power over those who are blessed by the power of Love, Virtue or a mother’s blessing.

One night I heard her crying. I heard her mutter and call out as an echo from deep within the forest. “Where are my faithful” she wailed.

“Who are your Faithful?”, I asked under my breath.

Then as if from the very walls of my house, the answer was exhaled:

“They are my Bright Dawn, my Red Sun and my Dark Midnight.’

*~*

Credits:
Shadow Puppet was designed and made by the very talented Isabellart
Photos taken by Hiro

Baba Yaga narrative taken from childhood memories and Angela Carter’s Fairy Tales.
Read more about this fascinating creature here.

Hello New Followers, Thank you for taking up residence in The House of Worship Blues! I Bid You WELCOME!

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