Legendary Trolls: Bruun Idun

Bruun Idun in profile

The Evergreen Echo

Bruun Idun, your ancestors saw the glacial ice as it covered the world. They watched as it receded and carved this land. The retreating ice dug deeply for water to seep and swell, rising to fill basins. The water created islands, inlets, bays, coves, straits, and peninsulas. It teemed with life birthing new species and giving a home to others. The whales ruled near the surface and the octopuses kept their kingdom below the murky depths. The water blossomed as the land called to new creatures.

Bruun Idun, your ancestors watched the first peoples arrive. They saw these peoples as they learned the topography of their new land. The peoples carved invisible lines in the territory, built settlements, and evolved their culture. For generations people loved, fought, built, destroyed, learned, traded, cultivated, and coexisted with the land and water. They found a balance taking only what they needed from this place. They maintained it because it was not theirs, but their children's childrens. One day after millenia in this place, they saw the first of many large, wooden ships heading south on the water.

Bruun Idun, your ancestors watched the old world meet the new. They saw the ship of Vancouver, the Discovery, on its mission of commerce and trade as it discovered things that were already known. Your ancestors listened as Vancouver named places that had already been named. He called the water Puget after a man he trusted. Islands, Whidbey and Vashon after friends. Mountains, Baker and Rainier for officers he cared for. Vancouver told of the boon he found and the land he claimed. The old world came at his call and built forts, took lumber, trapped furs, and settled on land they appropriated in the name of superiority.

Bruun Idun with her flute

The Evergreen Echo

Bruun Idun, your family watched as the immigrant populace dwarfed and overpowered the first peoples. Your family saw the ships, now larger and more laden, carrying the rest of the world into this ancient place. The people came by sea and then by land from north, south, and east. They took from the land for others. They used systems of wealth for development and investment to reap the bounty of this place. These people leveled, shaped, deforested, and built. Their settlements grew as the boats became numerous. The more people came, the more they took. The new word on their lips was “industry.”

Bruun Idun, you had not yet had form when the animals became endangered and the water polluted. The ships on the water became metal and belched toxicity all in the name of progress and convenience. The people's waste was buried in the soil where it festered and killed. Their byproducts clogged the tides. The change was noticed by these people, efforts were made, but the wheel had to be turned, the money had to be made. The people cared less about this place and more about their place in the small world of human affairs. The land and sea suffered so human life could be a breeze.

Bruun Idun, I did not know you as I grew up around this water. It was love at first sight when my growing brain took in the waves, the beaches, the rocks, and trees. I was baptized by the kiss of gentle waves on my tiny feet, relishing the frigid cold that didn't deter me, but beckoned me to its bracing love. The beaches of the southern basin where I grew up were filled with adventure, wonder, and romance. The water seemed so vast, but the land across felt swimmable and near. I felt much joy, but as I grew I saw the pain the people around me inflicted on the land and water with their carelessness and apathy.

Bruun Idun, you were given form at a time when you would not recognize the land you had heard of in the stories of your ancestors. Your form took shape as the world and the water you looked out on headed unimpeded toward an unthinkable end. The tune you play is a song of mourning and angst. You will us to listen, to bring back the land and water through stewardship. You will us to see that all is not hopeless if we care enough to hope. You will us to see we can care more, do more, correct more, and be better. Your song is what we need if only we would listen. Instead we marvel at you, at the thing built in our midst. 

Bruun Idun, the novelty of you outweighs your need for us to see what you have seen, what your family has seen. We see you, but we only pat our backs that you exist. We do not hear the wisdom of our ancestors. We do not hear the cries of our home. We do not hear the truth about our chances of survival. We need to hear in order to act. We need to act to survive. 

Bruun Idun’s view / The Evergreen Echo