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A Day of Fairies

A Day of Fairies: First Day of Autumn

An autumn day

Of wandering thoughts:

Gratefulness and

Fairy whispers.

I heard them,

Singing low and strong

Word-wrights, song weavers

In an age before

Time

Under the trees

The leaves skip in circles

The wind scattering

Rearranging all

In Divine creativity.

Herbert and the Arabian Pillow Maker

One day Herbert was taking his morning walk through them meadow when he noticed something strange.  Strange things often seemed to be happening in his meadow in the mornings.  He wondered if it were something about the meadow or perhaps just him.  He quickly put that notion out of his head.  Herbert did not have the time for such musings as he was looking for that particularly succulent form of clover that grew just before the trees flamed up in autumn colors.  He was storing it away for the winter, you see,  as winters were cold to his hooves and the clover that grew in winter was not nearly as fine tasting.

He went on with his task with fierce alacrity.  He felt good that he was doing the nice planning things that the Guru had often told him to do when Herbert was hungry and hit him up for food.  The Guru always had something nice simmering on his kitchen fire.  Herbert, of course, was always close by at those moments.

This morning however, Herbert paused from his gathering and looked up for a moment.  The commotion seemed to be coming from his home hearth.  The Guru was hugging a strange dark-skinned man and slapping him on the back.  Herbert did not know what to make of this.  Herbert had never known the Guru to slap anybody.

But they were smiling, so this had Herbert’s head spinning.  He drew closer to the strange situation unfolding before him.  He hid behind a bush that was way too small to hide him, but he felt safe to observe.  The dark-skinned man had on brightly colored clothing flowing out in all directions…diaphanous and beautiful in shades of blue purple and red, contrasting with the Guru’s simple brown attire.  He spoke with a thick accent as of one from far away and exotic parts.  He drew a small wagon that contained various wares to be sold and bartered.

The Guru was holding one of these beautiful things.  It was a small-multicolored pillow with tassels and bells on the corners.  Herbert wondered what it was for.  He knew one thing.  It certainly was beautiful.

As Herbert gained the courage to approach, the two men acknowledged him.  Herbert was shy in the presence of the Guru’s Arabian friend.  This inhibition faded quickly as the Arabian drew out a small sleeping carpet for Herbert (fire resistant of course). It was warm and soft and Herbert couldn’t wait to try it out—and he was very fond of sleeping—and as close to the fire as he could without burning his fleece.  The carpet did not fly as Herbert had hoped, as he discovered several attempts and bruises later.

The pillow remained in the Guru’s corner as a reminder that beauty exists in the world even if there are no tassels and bells attached. Friendships, even those that are far off, are an important part of life.  Sometimes even the wise need reminding of such things.

 

Herbert’s Blue Blanket

Once upon a time there lived a little fuzzy lamb who loved to walk in the meadow in the springtime. Herbert loved adventure and romping through the meadow with his friends in the cool, spring air. He loved to play tag with his friend, Raymond, the squirrel and then sit in the shade of the massive trees that dotted the meadow.

Romping is hard work for a little lamb, especially for Herbert who loved to race his friends back and forth along the wide expanse of ground. Herbert nearly always came in second, but he didn’t mind. He kept trying and got faster and faster as he practiced. He loved how the wind ruffled his fleece. However, even bouncy sheep get tired after a while. He sauntered off toward one of the large trees lining the field.

Herbert sat down under one of them. He looked up and saw a little caterpillar with bright yellow spots and wearing orange horn-rimmed glasses.

“What is your name?” Herbert asked.

“My name is Matilda, she said as she looked up from the lovely blue blanket she was making. Herbert liked the color and though how soft it must feel. He would like to take a nap underneath it because he was very tired from his playing.

“May I sleep under your blanket” Herbert asked politely. “It is a lovely color and it looks just like the clouds in the sky. “

Matilda blushed with pride and she gently tucked Herbert into his sleeping spot under the gently swaying tree. Herbert fell asleep almost instantly. He started to dream.

He was walking through a beautiful meadow with bright purple flowers everywhere he stepped. His friends the pixie sprites were dancing around his head as he ventured toward the forest. He went in and walked in the dark quiet for a bit until her heard a bird call out a morning song. Herbert followed the bird deeper into the forest.

Eventually they stopped right in front of a hollow tree. Herbert looked down. One glittering, silver leaf on the ground caught his attention. It had a message written on it in small neat letters. Herbert wished he had paid more attention to the Guru, when it was time for his lessons. He sounded out each word very slowly.

“The man who moves a mountain begins by carrying away small stones.”

(Confucius, The Analects)

Herbert knew he shouldn’t take anything from nature. The Guru told him that it belongs to all people and to itself. Herbert really liked the smooth pink stone he found and he thought it must be magic. He picked it up and carried it as he journeyed through the forest.

As Herberts are wont to do he became hopelessly lost and it was beginning to get dark. When Herbert turned in the opposite direction the stone would sing directing him back on the path he needed to travel.

So they continued walking (and the stone sometimes singing) until Herbert was at the extreme edge of the thick of trees.

Hebert saw the sun again and was glad. When he awoke there was a beautiful pink stone near where he was resting his head. The blanket that gave him the beautiful dreams was nowhere to be found. He hoped someday he would see Matilda again.

Wishies

Herbert spent a lot of time looking out the window in spring time. He loved that season most of all, even more than autumn when the leaves did their before-winter dance. It was the season of his birthday and he remembered playing in the meadow when he was just a little lamb just after the Guru found him. He enjoyed chasing butterflies and bumblebees (that shouldn’t be able to fly, but still did!) He loved having fun in the lake with Alphonsus, the fish and his friend, Raymond, the squirrel. Herbert still enjoyed doing all these things, of course, but he was a bigger sheep now and tended to spend more time these days, just noticing things. On the breezy morning of this story, Herbert was doing just that.

The clouds were high in the sky and they looked nearly as fluffy as Herbert, only there was no tangle of hooves and beating. They just floated up in the sky’s blueness like peaceful legless sheep, which Herbert found a little appalling, but he tried to ignore it. It was certainly a beautiful day and Herbert kept looking up, heedless of where each hoof would fall. Herbert noticed some things, not all things and where his feet happened to be always seemed like the last of these.

He kicked the head off a snowy-hued dandelion and it floated up to him singing,

“A wish is a thing to be said,

When you’ve kicked off my head!

Don’t worry; it’s fine

It could have gone any time.

Make a wish. Make it good

Like you know that you should

And I’ll bring right back,

Anything that you lack.

Herbert didn’t know what to make of the singing dandelion, but he closed his little sheepie eyes and thought really hard. He couldn’t think of anything he lacked except maybe someone to play with in the meadow. All his friends had gone to visit the pixie sprites who lived in the big oak tree just at the edge of the Magic Meadow. Herbert knew the Guru was very busy putting flowers around the walk to the little hut the two shared. The Guru was very intent on finishing and the flowers were too little to talk to yet. (He could try, however)

Herbert asked the wishie for a friend so they could spend the afternoon together. Before he knew is there was a great gust of spring air and Herbert was caught up in a great swirling if movement that lifted him off his feet and carried him many miles away.

Before you could say, “clover” Herbert found himself at the foot of the large oak tree where the pixie-sprites lived right at the edge of the Magic Meadow. All Herbert’s friends were already there! Alphonsus had come in a glass of water, so he couldn’t stay long without magic. Raymond chattered about and Sally, the sheep was there with a purple flower in her hair. The orange kitten sat stately on the wooden fence pretending to ignore everyone. The marshmallow peeps were singing in barbershop along with the singing pickle. It was quite a party with all the sprites in attendance, especially the beautiful sprite with the emerald green dress and the beautiful auburn hair.

Herbert had a wonderful afternoon and even enjoyed the walk back home with his friends. He couldn’t wait to tell the flowers along the walk all about it.

Breakfast Time

Tea and Toast

Tea and toast

That’s the breakfast

That Herbert likes most

He would rather have some toast and jelly

Than anything else to fill his belly.

The guru would often offer an egg

But Herbert would grumble

Ugh, no way!

Tea and Toast

Tea and Toast

That’s the breakfast

That Herbert likes most

Maybe and orange?

Maybe and apple?

With hash browns and

Lots of scrapple?

Tea and toast

Tea and toast

That’s the breakfast

That Herbert likes most.