myth for common bladderwort

A mother who lived alone on the side of a mountain prayed for children. She wanted nothing more than to see children play in the tree and wander into the deep caves. She wanted them to learn about what it was like to see a fish jump and a hawk circle the sun in a smooth ring. She wanted a child. She wanted a child so badly that she tried to make them out of clay, she tried to carve them out of stone and wood. She captured the young from foxes who would attack her in return. And when she did manage to find a young squirrel or raven who had fallen from its nest, they would inevitably run from her. They were wild, and there was something about her that could not teach them how to be human. She wandered the forest, far from her home weeping for her loss when she came upon an old witch. 

The witch lived in a dwelling that looked like a pile of sticks beside a swamp and she was awoken, and a bit annoyed to hear this woman weep so she went out to see who was weeping so pathetically. The woman explained how much she wanted a baby.

The witch brought mud out from her dwelling and gave it to the woman. “Make your child out of this.” Put plant and some animal in the being; and some air, water, and fire in to it too. But I warn you, you must put something of yourself into the child. And that thing you must value above all others, you must give it to them.

The woman was so eager for the baby that she quickly agreed and began to form a child out of the mud. She harvested the yellow of a flame, she filled it with the blood of a snake, she gave it eyes of roots. She soaked its feet in the swamp so that the rich water would make its skin glow with life, and let the air of the pond dry it and seep into its ears so that it might hear the songs of the wood.

She could not imagine what of herself she could give to her child. She would have been happy to give them everything. She thought of what her most important thing was. For years she could remember thinking nothing more than her longing for a child. She did not think she was anything sometimes but a wraith of longing, rage, even. So she gave it nothing of herself. She threw her anxiety and longing into the pond and, strangely, the child still opened their eyes.

They grew up like any child would. They learned and played, they grew. And yet there was always something rather hollow in the child and they kept looking for something, unable to settle, unable to be satisfied. They were a beautiful child, radiant, though a little skinny, as if they were missing some valuable protein. Their mother loved them more than anything. She did all she could to make the child feel loved and celebrated, accepted. One day when the child was becoming a youth they went on a long walk, hunting in the woods for beaver or pheasant and they found an old woman in a dwelling made of sticks.

The old woman had been making tea and was happily going about her business and was disturbed by a knocking on her door. When she answered the youth responded that they had seen a beaver come around here, and this looks like a beaver house.

“You might want to look in the water, I saw them go that way.” The old woman responded.

So the youth jumped into the lake and came face to face with themselves. This was the part that was connected to their mother and was thrown away. It was the worry, the longing, the terror, the rage, the abandonment but also the strength and resilience that the child was not given. It’s strange to see a part of yourself you’ve never seen. This being was terrifying. They had long teeth with organs from some prey hanging from their jowl and hair that extended all around in all directions. In it fish and crawfish and algae was tangled. A low growl emitted when it breathed. The youth was at first frozen with fear, but slowly, as they looked at one another their heart melted and they reached their hand out to the being, and a sense of relief rushed through both youths as they understood what was missing. They became the bladderwort and stayed in the pond as both predator and home, searching the depths for prey and building tiny homes with their hair.