2024-06-10 - [2.1] my words fly up ...

With passing time, the leaving and returning of mother (Mother?) becomes so familiar that it fades into the background for the young creature, like a flow and ebb of tides that move to an unseen hand. But when she is there (her presence warm, rich, expansive, sending comfort) there is more now that it can sense.

The language of starts and stops, of shapes that the little one knows to be mother shaping encouraging comforting - not meaning, not yet, but the language fits with the warm sense of mother. The new being tries to copy, to mimic and to send back. it is a babble. It is meaningless. But the call and reponse makes a pattern that the egg likes. Mother shapes some words, and it tries to shape them too. The babble is unfocussed but the patterns, they sometimes seem to repeat.

Then the next time mother leaves, the little creature is infuriated, why is it being left behind AGAIN? And the mind voice shapes a perfect, "ME TOO!!!!!"

And of course once it has started talking, the difficult thing is to get it to shut up,