The Blue Men

They do not speak.

But they communicate.

Through sound. Through light. Through movement.

They are curious.

They are profound.

They are blue.

***

When the Earth first formed, full of drama and fury, the Blue Men were there. They admired the eruptions and rumbles, the flashes of light, and the rapturous glow of lava.

And the marshmallows.

Nothing beat roasting marshmallows over a hot open lava flow.

It wasn't long before the buzzing of insects caught the attention of the Blue Men. Insects who crawled, flew, and made wondrous noises.

And bit. Oh the biting.

But mostly it was the wondrous noises. Whirring, wheezing, whining. Clicking, clacking, creaking. The Blue Men followed the sounds until they saw magnificent swirls of bugs in the air. Swarms of wings and legs and miniature bodies that seemed to form one large pulsating mass. The white eyes of the Blue Men followed the hordes, witnessing ever-changing patterns of beauty and art.

When the first amphibian crawled out of the sea, the Blue Men almost did not notice, so enraptured were they by the infinite swarms. But when that amphibian plucked an insect from a leaf and swallowed it whole, they took notice.

They followed this curious creature, taken by its smooth skin and bulging eyes. When its neck plumped out, they leaned back, sure this creature was about to erupt like the volcanoes before it. But its eruption was smaller. More interesting. A loud croak that carried through the air and across the green fields. An answering croak floated back, and the ears of the Blue Men pricked at the noise. What fascinating sounds this squat creature emitted.

The arrival of birds marked the high point for the Blue Men. Fabulous flights of fanciful feathers. Marvelous music, both merry and mournful.

And droppings. Lots and lots of droppings.

There were so many birds. Some squat, some tall. Some huge, some small. They danced and sang and fought and flocked. The birds had their own way of exploding with squawks and squeals. The mastery of their music was rivaled only by their coruscating colors.

The Blue Men so loved the colors. Rambunctious reds, yammering yellows, and vociferous violets. The colors had a music all their own. The ears of the Blue Men danced, their eyes rejoiced, and... well, there really wasn't any getting away from the droppings.

Creatures came and went, appeared on the earth, only to fade away moments later. As much as the Blue Men followed the harrowing histories of dinosaurs, rodents, and primates, they always went back to the birds. The beautiful, boisterous birds and their symphonious songs.

Until the humans appeared.

The humans were unlike anything the Blue Men had ever seen. Walking upright. Thinking. Feeling.

Eating marshmallows.

So much like themselves.

The humans came in different colors, too, though not as numerous as the birds. They built cities, bridges, and amusement parks. They created movies and books and daytime television. But what fascinated the Blue Men most was the art and the music. The shapes and the sounds. They discovered that shapes could become sound. The tangible, transformed into the intangible. A feast for the senses.

The Blue Men, having no form of speech, reached out to the humans with gestures and head tilts. No one responded, save for one fellow who paused, looked at them, and sneezed. They jumped and pranced, shimmied and danced, but nothing seemed to cross the divide between them.

But they would not give up. Never had a source of music and beauty sought other, different sources of music and beauty. The Blue Men decided, if the humans cannot notice us, then we will give them something to notice.

And so they began building. The humans had shapes that could emit sound, so they created shapes that would emit sounds and colors. They thought of the birds as they worked. Birds who strutted with long green tails and fluttered with ruby red throats. Birds who squawked and warbled and ca-cawed.

They played with drums and pipes and ribbons and lights. But it was the pipes they loved most. They bent them and stretched them, wound them round and round, until it radiated when struck with beauteous sound.

Equipped with drums and lights and percussive pipes, the Blue Men once again approached the humans. They did not bother to catch the attention of the humans. They simply set up, and began performing.

At first the humans were bewildered. What were these odd sights and sounds? Who were these strange men with shining blue faces? But they soon found their toes tapping and their eyes widening as the music and colors swirled before them.

Upon completing their performance, the Blue Men waited, leaning forward, watching to see if understanding dawned in the eyes of the humans. A hush fell as the colors faded and the music floated away. The humans looked at one another.

Blinked.

And erupted in sudden applause.

The Blue Men straightened their spines and looked on in wonder. They had succeeded. The Blue Men do not smile or snarl or speak, but at last they had found a way to reach the humans. They had found a way to delight them, just as the humans had delighted the Blue Men.

From that moment on, the humans sought them for more, smiling and laughing at the sights and sounds. And the ever curious Blue Men continued to observe all that the humans had to offer. Museums and marching bands, satellites and celebrities, popovers and Pink Floyd. The humans and the Blue Men had connected, sharing their love for beauty and music.

And marshmallows.

Those Blue Men sure did love marshmallows.

*This is my first time writing anything like this. If you enjoyed it, I'd be honored if you'd consider clicking the Vote button. Thank you for reading!