Muffy Arrives In London

Muffy Heads South On The Train

Muffy gets on the train

Muffy Makes A Friend!

Muffy Gets A Drink

At the platform

After the bus finally pulled into Windermere station, Muffy was one of the last to hop off onto the warm asphalt. Everything was unfamiliar to her, but there was really no time to ruminate. Caught up in a small flood of people moving into the station, Muffy found herself propelled forward, nudged and jostled this way and that into the main lobby of the station. No one seemed to care, despite her nervous white-pawed gesticulations, that she did not possess any form of travel pass whatsoever. However, a kindly-looking little old lady did smile down at her as she narrowly missed stepping on Muffy. She pondered briefly at the foot of a ticket machine, peering at the prices of single tickets down to London. Adult or child? The options flashed on the screen that she could just about see from where she was standing. Muffy did not know, and much to her bewilderment, there was no "Cute bunny of indeterminate age" option on the machine. Her momentary hesitation caused her to be roughly pushed aside by the same little old lady who spat and muttered under her breath about the ill mannered youth of today.

Seeing that no one was interested in asking her for a ticket or checking her ID, Muffy managed to hop unnoticed and unmolested to the main platform, where small, unseemly clumps of people sat or stood about, waiting for the next train. There had just been a small cloudburst, and puddles of rain had formed on the platform. There was something strangely fresh and clean about the smell of rain on a station platform, having washed away all the muddy detritus from the boots of tired travellers. Muffy gazed at the gleaming, wet tracks which would take her on her journey, and felt a twinge of excitement while thinking about the new experiences that now lay before her, things she had never dreamed about. She had never been on a train in her life. Her tongue felt now like sandpaper in her mouth. All this excitement had made her awfully thirsty, she realised.

The story of Muffy's journey begins

It wasn't really a dark and stormy night, but all good stories seem to begin that way.

Muffy Catches the Bus (At Last)

The next morning, M awoke to find herself in darkness. It was terrifying mostly because there was no reason for it, and she thought she was back in her burrow anyway. She stretched out, and her ears brushed against the hard rock she had been nestling against, which quickly reminded her about where she was, and where she had to go that day.

But this disturbing darkness was at first, inexplicable. M rubbed her eyes and blinked anxiously at the landscape before her but her vision was greatly dimmed. It was as if something huge was standing in her way and blocking out all light from the sun. Little by little though, her eyes adjusted themselves, and she could make out some shapes hovering about in the middle-distance. They were, in fact, the Assistants, who had spent all night at Blea Tarn, toying with their cameras. And this morning despite having had little sleep themselves, they were avidly constructing an enormous edifice, a replica of their large format cameras, but perhaps a thousand times larger. "Bigger is better!" she heard them shout repeatedly in their monotonous, chanting voices, like the US Marines sometimes did in the movies while in basic training. M shook her little white head in disbelief. They were building a camera to take lifesize images of the landscape. Apparently unhappy with the 4x5" negatives they had toiled all night to make, the Assistants thought that this was the one sure way to grab the attention of the photographic world, and perhaps even make it to the cover of "Amateur Photographer" magazine.

M grabbed her rag bundle and hopped furiously towards the road, until she felt the sun's rays warming her little tail once more. She was relieved that she was finally out of the shadow of that gargantuan thing sitting in the field. For the Assistants were constructing their camera mostly out of wooden planks, and now, seemed to be debating what to do next - they had just scoured eBay on their WiFi laptop, trying to find a suitably-sized lens to fit their super-large-format camera but this search was fruitless. And they thought that you could find anything on eBay! Their disappointment was evident in the way they had started to sulk, ignoring each other and taking pains to avoid each other's gaze.

So M gradually lost interest in them and and waited patiently for the bus to arrive, finally glad to be leaving Blea Tarn and the Assistants behind, as they had ruined the landscape she used to know with their giant carbuncle that blocked her once-unimpeded view of the mountains. How many carrots had they squashed underfoot, M would never know, but all this did not matter, as she heard the hum of a distant engine and saw the promising glint in the roof of an approaching bus in the distance. Next stop - Windermere! And from there, M would find her way to the train station so she could head down South. Her tail was tremulous in anticipation; she had no idea what fate awaited her down South, but plain old rabbit instinct informed her that Miffy was probably carousing down there with rowdy undesirables (no doubt friends of the Photographer himself), and discarding her clothing to sunbathe naked in Silent Valley (which was a favourite rabbit holiday destination, a rabbit-Biarritz or Alicante). The bus screeched to a stop and opened its doors to disgorge a pair of sunburned backpackers, and M managed to hop on frantically just before the doors closed - she slipped in unnoticed and settled herself underneath an unoccupied seat. The view from there was non-existent, but it was only a short ride to Windemere so it didn't matter. M nibbled on some more left-over carrot to try and stave off her car-sickness. From now on, she realised, her life was going to get a little more interesting....

Muffy Meets the Assistants

Such was her resolve to leave her comfortable burrow that Muffy had efficiently packed all her worldly belongings and bundled it up in a little red scarf, and then tied it to the end of a stick. This had happened several days ago, but unfortunately, over the langorous Bank Holiday weekend, Muffy had drunk too much Sangria from discarded bottles in the field left behind by a group of Spanish picnickers, and thus was in no fit state to travel very far, or even to hop to the nearest bus stop.

But today, she was finally ready. Clutching onto her luggage with one white paw, she trudged across the field quickly, determined not to turn back and look at her burrow, where the faint aroma of burnt carrot toast still lingered, as if beckoning her to return. The sun shone relentlessly overhead, and it became increasingly difficult and wearisome to hop across the vast field to the road. The horizon shimmered tantalisingly in the distance, but no matter how much energy Muffy expended, it seemed that the bus stop was still many miles away.

She began to contemplate the possibility that the world was indeed, very vast, and that she may never even find the Photographer unless he returned to Blea Tarn. Until now, she had not considered the possibility of never seeing her dear Miffy again, and the thought made her little bunny heart shrink with fear. Perhaps our little heroine's task was doomed to failure from the beginning, like the attempts of K the land surveyor to penetrate the elusive Castle, she would live out her life hopping about in circles, chasing a chimera - perhaps Miffy (if she had not ended up in a tasty stew by then) did not even want to be found. However, Muffy rather fancied the thought of being caught up in a "Kafkaesque" situation; it vaguely appealed to her romantic-bunny sense of imagination. For now, she wanted to be known simply as "M"... a sort of Everyrabbit that is identifiable to most everyone who has ever been on a futile search for something.

No sooner had these thoughts passed through her mind than our intrepid bunny M suddenly spied two distant figures, both slightly bent over, hauling big packs on their backs. From this distance, M thought they rather resembled pack-carrying camels across the Sahara; not that she had ever been to a desert herself. M thought that if her search for the Photographer and Miffy took her to the Sahara, she'd have to get some sunglasses, and perhaps a hat. The figures soon loomed larger, and were heading towards her. They weren't camels, though - they were men - two of them, rather average and non-descript in all aspects of their appearance. Both were slightly bent and carried enormous packs on their backs, as if they were on an expedition across the English Lake District. But no one ever went on such expeditions across the Lake District, even a humble, unschooled Cumbrian rabbit knew that much. M eyed them suspiciously, even going as far as hopping near their feet to sniff their boots, but they barely noticed her. Both of them struck her as looking astonishingly alike, and in fact the only way she could tell them apart was that one of them wore a small earring in his right ear, and the other in his left. And they both stopped walking to wipe their brows almost in unison, and one of them spoke in a breathless voice.
"Looks like a good spot?"
The other one merely nodded, too red-faced and breathless with exhaustion to speak.

After a few moments to gather themselves, they both started unpacking their rucksacks and bringing out all sorts of fanciful equipment that M had never before had the opportunity to examine at such close range. Complicated contraptions that took at least a few hours to set up, by which time the sun would have disappeared behind the horizon, M mused, as she watched one of them carefully screw a piece of glass into the machine. Not having seen a camera from so close before, M cleverly surmised that they must be photographers themselves. She considered the possibility that the might even know the Photographer she was after. Perhaps they were his Assistants! She started to clear her throat to get their attention, but all that garnered was a quick, disinterested glance from one of them, who was more absorbed in setting up his gear.

"Whatcha shooting?"
The other one shrugged, and then swept his hand in a dramatic gesture, indicating the entire landscape before them. "Dunno. The trees, lake, mountains. Everything."
And then he punctuated this reply with another non-committal shrug, as if to put an end to that discussion. They were very busy, after all, setting up their large and complicated cameras. There was no time for idle conversation.

M felt crushed that she had been ignored by such an inarticulate buffoon. Even with her limited rabbit vocabulary, she felt that the question warranted much more of a soul-searching answer. She did not have to search deep within herself to find it. The landscape was Home to her, it was where she belonged, where she grew up, and it was everything that she knew. And it had provided carrots in abundance. Again, she sadly recalled her little carrot toaster in her burrow, and forced herself to think of something else.

It was the mid-afternoon by then, and neither Assistant had taken any notice of her despite M waving her paws frantically at them, trying to get their attention. By now, both had disappeared under thick, black cloths to peer through their enormous cameras, and from M's perspective low among the tall grasses, they resembled rather menacing 5-legged monsters in hibernation, which twitched only occasionally. She sighed and wondered if she would miss the last bus to Windermere. It was nearing 4 o'clock by the time one of them emerged from behind the cloth, only to declare, "I need a red filter".

Who are you? Do you know the Photographer? You know, the one who has abducted my baby sister, Miffy. I need to find him!
M desperately mouthed this to the Assistant, but he merely yawned contemptuously in her direction before rummaging in his rucksack.

At this, M disdainfully gathered up her belongings and continued on her slow journey towards the road. She could see a bus parked by the roadside, but it was already starting to pull off by the time she reached the road. Stop, stop! Wait for me! she found herself shouting, but no sound came out, only little gasps of exertion as she was finally left behind in a cloud of exhaust fumes. Again, she shook her white paws angrily at the retreating bus, until it was a mere speck in the distance. Oh well, she thought. Her departure would have to wait another day. She was too tired to hop back to her burrow, but she could always seek shelter behind a rock - there were plenty of those at Blea Tarn. And to comfort herself, she would sneak a bite of the carrot toast she'd packed away in her red bundle.

Hopping back to the nearest rock, she found herself again in the vicinity of the Photographer's Assistants, who resolutely failed to provide her with any clues to the whereabouts of the Photographer. They were just mostly silent, or sometimes they uttered soft curses to themselves and shook their heads. The sun was starting to sink behind the mountains, and still, they were fiddling with their cameras. M hopped onto a rock to sit down and watch them. She was just out of earshot, but could hear snatches of voices as they argued with each other over which film to use, and which exposure was correct. Darkness finally fell and still, the two figures stood there, bathed in bright moonlight, adjusting the lenses on their great big cameras and peering through the viewfinders. Her curiosity by this time was also tinged with annoyance - but obviously this curiosity wasn't enough to keep her awake to continue watching them, and just before midnight, M fell into a deep sleep in the comforting shadow of the rock, still clutching at a nibbled piece of carrot.

Muffy discovers Miffy's Dark Side

So by now, Muffy had fingered the Photographer as the malevolent influence who had cajoled her dear Miffy into running away from her burrow. In her feverish rabbit brain, random snatches of memories of the man who frequently traipsed across the fields in Blea Tarn had quickly coalesced into a twisted, monstrous image - albeit a nameless one which nevertheless, warranted capitalisation - as the Photographer instead of a mere, anonymous "photographer". Muffy had decided that to find Miffy, she may well have to find the Photographer, too.

It had been many days since she last sighted the Photographer working in the fields. This morning, as she hopped about purposefully in the wan May sunlight, she thought she spied something glinting in the sun, lying in the grass. Upon closer investigation, it was a discarded Velvia wrapper. Muffy's nose quivered with excitement. So she was possibly getting close? But a quick survey of the lake revealed no such person. The grasses blew about idly in the wind, and there was not another soul about. Muffy had never felt so desperately alone in her short rabbit life.

Returning to her burrow, she glimpsed the tiny hallway mirror which she had always demurely avoided gazing at. But this time she caught sight of her own very white, very pale ears - and noticed that half the mirror was coal-black, as if someone had dipped it in tar. She recalled that Miffy had always been preening herself in it... was this Miffy's dark side? Again, uncomfortable thoughts swirled in her tiny rabbit brain and she fled to the kitchen to make herself more carrot toast, as if to quell her own, sudden hunger for freedom and knowledge. Yes, perhaps it was true; her sister never said much, but she had a passion for life. Unlike Muffy, who had until just now, lived a life just like any other humble, unreflecting rabbit - without having ever experienced any real intensities of emotion. Just little joys and disappointments, feelings that were mostly modulated by the size and colour of the carrots she found while on her long, food-gathering rambles. She had merely skimmed the surface of life like a mere dragonfly skating over a pond, whereas her sister Miffy wanted to plumb the depths. She acknowledged she had a dark side, whereas Muffy was not even aware she had one. With a nervous paw, she tried to wipe the black substance off the mirror, but it stuck on stubbornly. Clearly, this "dark side" was a force to be reckoned with.


It was clear that Muffy had to leave her own, comfortable existence - to leave everything that was comfortable and familiar to her, in order to find her sister, and maybe discover life for herself. Emboldened by this thought (and a satisfying carrot toast), Muffy hopped to the door of her burrow and imagined herself leaving it forever - or at the very least, for a few months. She felt no pang of regret.

Tomorrow, she told herself. She would leave tomorrow.

Miffy Is Missing

"Home"....

The word seemed to resonate within the tiny interior of Muffy's skull, like a long-forgotten mantra that had through endlessly-repeated recitations, lost its true meaning. She had woken up that morning and peered through her frayed net curtains, strung across the side of her custom-built burrow, and sighed when she slowly remembered who she was, and where she was.

It was just another morning, and she had woken up late. That night she had dreamed of Miffy, who had cheekily tweaked her yellow flower when she asked her what was on her mind. Her dear sister rarely spoke; in fact, it was often difficult to ascertain where her mouth even was - in that blank, white, expressionless face. Miffy had been so difficult to decipher. And suddenly, one morning, an ordinary morning just like this one - Miffy disappeared. She left no trace apart from a few muddy pawprints in the shower. The sight was simply heart-rending. For days afterwards, Muffy could not step into the shower without recalling those prints, the only evidence there remained that she had ever shared her burrow with another rabbit.

"I don't suppose Miffy had ever considered this home", she mused, as she stretched her paws which almost touched the ceiling. Their burrow was small, but comfortable - she had not wanted much more than that, and to her, it had always been home. But lately, since Miffy's disappearance, she had felt this sense of belonging less and less; it was as if Miffy had spirited away her own sense of "home" with her. Perhaps, she mused, as she chewed on her mashed-carrot-on-toast, Home was really where Miffy was. The great outdoors. She often wondered where her sister was, prancing about in the sun. She'd always been a flighty one, that Miffy. Perhaps it was that suspicious-looking photographer whom she'd been flirting and dallying with a month or two before she disappeared. Muffy didn't trust the male of the species, not since Horace the Hare left their burrow with all their joint belongings, leaving behind only the carrot-grater, because it was too large to fit through the hole of their burrow (he had clearly left in a hurry). It was strange too, as Horace had loved the grater since finding it abandoned in a field. He had dismantled it and re-assembled it to fit in the burrow, and it was his pride and joy - although Muffy herself had hated the carbuncle every time she had to squeeze past it and felt its sharp edges skim over her fur. She had rarely used it to grate their carrots. It was just bloody hares, and their obsession with big, useless things....
And after the initial shock, she was glad Horace was gone because she had never liked his smell, nor the way he thumped his foot.

But then Miffy, well she was different. She was a joy to be around. The mere recollection of her sister caused Muffy's heart a sudden pain. No, no, she would not think of Miffy. There were other things to do. And the food-gathering to be done, before it got too hot outside. Muffy peered out through the net curtains again, her beady little eyes clouding with tears. She had never really questioned herself what had caused Miffy to just leave without a word. Perhaps, lurking behind that mute, white and fluffy exterior, there was a Rampant Rabbit, eager to burst out. The mere thought caused Muffy to quake, no, reverberate in horror. Who had the power to tease an alter-ego like that out of her mild-mannered sister? The photographer! Of course... it was probably him all along.

Muffy's Introduction

I'm Muffy the rabbit.

Actually, I have another blog here. I can't keep up with typing on two blogs at once, my paws can only do so much. So I've decided to keep this one and discontinue the other one. If you want to have a look-see, you're very welcome: http://muffyrabbit.livejournal.com.

Keep sniffing the flowers!

xox
M.