Why We Have Dirt
by Rory
A long time ago, above a large, grassy, meadow near a Greek village, lived a sky goddess. Her name was Eos, goddess of the dawn. She lived happily in her Palace of Clouds. Below her, in the meadow, there were many worms. They were the only animals that lived there. Not many creatures would choose to live under a goddess. You see, goddesses are also very moody. Eos had many outbursts and would often throw things down at the meadow. But one outburst was unmistakably larger than any of the others.
It was a bright and sunny morning when it started. Eos was up in her palace, arguing with her parrot, Sunny. Down in the meadow, the worms were searching for something to do. If you were down there on that day, you could of heard Eos’s frustrated shouts from a mile away. She had been assigned to do dessert for the god, Zeus’s, birthday banquet. But Eos was a horrible baker. She did not know what she would do.
Finally, she decided on brownies. “Everyone loves brownies,” she had thought. Eos started on the first batch. She needed to make atleast seven batches. After she finished the first part, she put them in her oven. Then she started the next batch. Only after the second batch was finished did Eos realize she had forgotten the water. Fuming with frustration, she threw down the ruined batch of brownies. They were way to dense to give to the other gods.
Down in the meadow, the worms inspected the immense brown pile. It was as big as thirteen elephants piled on top of each other and as hard as a rock.
Eos tried again. This time she put too much water. She threw the watery mush far away. Eos made many batches, but none turned out right. One was undercooked to a light tan color. Another was overcooked, burnt to a crisp. Although Eos made more and more mistakes, she did not get discouraged. Goddesses are also quite stubborn. Every time Eos made a mistake she would throw the brownies somewhere else. Eos worked day and night. Alas she couldn’t get the brownies right. By then every grassy area in the world had brownie remains on it.
Back down in the meadow, the worms had finally found something to do. They were tunneling through the masses of failed attempts at brownies. They had spread them out over most of the meadow, and were quite proud of their work.
In the kitchen of the cloud palace, Eos wept. Even Sunny the parrot’s reasoning could not have brought her to her senses. She had failed the great Zeus.
“I am a failure” she had said. But goddesses also have a lot of self-pride. Eos could not let the other gods know what she was. She turned into her human form then left for the closest village. In her hurry she had not noticed all the animals that had come to the meadow. They came because of the flowers that grew where the brownies used to be. The worms had buried the brownies beneath the grass, as so not to anger Eos.
Days later, the goddess-sized Eos proudly marched to the banquet with hundreds of human-sized cupcakes made by a village baker. Of course, the other gods never found out about the brownies until they noticed a layer of what everyone seemed to call “dirt’, all over the land.
That is the story of why we have dirt, now known only to you, me, and of course, the worms.
It was a bright and sunny morning when it started. Eos was up in her palace, arguing with her parrot, Sunny. Down in the meadow, the worms were searching for something to do. If you were down there on that day, you could of heard Eos’s frustrated shouts from a mile away. She had been assigned to do dessert for the god, Zeus’s, birthday banquet. But Eos was a horrible baker. She did not know what she would do.
Finally, she decided on brownies. “Everyone loves brownies,” she had thought. Eos started on the first batch. She needed to make atleast seven batches. After she finished the first part, she put them in her oven. Then she started the next batch. Only after the second batch was finished did Eos realize she had forgotten the water. Fuming with frustration, she threw down the ruined batch of brownies. They were way to dense to give to the other gods.
Down in the meadow, the worms inspected the immense brown pile. It was as big as thirteen elephants piled on top of each other and as hard as a rock.
Eos tried again. This time she put too much water. She threw the watery mush far away. Eos made many batches, but none turned out right. One was undercooked to a light tan color. Another was overcooked, burnt to a crisp. Although Eos made more and more mistakes, she did not get discouraged. Goddesses are also quite stubborn. Every time Eos made a mistake she would throw the brownies somewhere else. Eos worked day and night. Alas she couldn’t get the brownies right. By then every grassy area in the world had brownie remains on it.
Back down in the meadow, the worms had finally found something to do. They were tunneling through the masses of failed attempts at brownies. They had spread them out over most of the meadow, and were quite proud of their work.
In the kitchen of the cloud palace, Eos wept. Even Sunny the parrot’s reasoning could not have brought her to her senses. She had failed the great Zeus.
“I am a failure” she had said. But goddesses also have a lot of self-pride. Eos could not let the other gods know what she was. She turned into her human form then left for the closest village. In her hurry she had not noticed all the animals that had come to the meadow. They came because of the flowers that grew where the brownies used to be. The worms had buried the brownies beneath the grass, as so not to anger Eos.
Days later, the goddess-sized Eos proudly marched to the banquet with hundreds of human-sized cupcakes made by a village baker. Of course, the other gods never found out about the brownies until they noticed a layer of what everyone seemed to call “dirt’, all over the land.
That is the story of why we have dirt, now known only to you, me, and of course, the worms.