We were imprisoned by snow: three feet of it. So was the rest of the county. Raul answered the phone when I called.
Yes, the animals were fine; no, the electricity hadnt dimmed; the wood stove was being fed regularly; running water was to be had, and, best of all, it looked like there wouldnt be any school for the rest of the week! "By the way," he asked conversationally, "Where are you, Daddy?"
"The front office of The High Plains Rider, with Deirdre Moon and Epona Maris, and wondering how I got here," I replied quietly, glancing at the two other couches on which my colleagues slept.
"Oh," he answered. "Well, have fun!" In the manner of those whose grasp of detail is not profound, he rang off, and I was left with a buzzing telephone receiver, still wondering.
The Womyns Centre Fundraiser the night before had filled the 1,500-seat Fondis Lyceum. Theyd come to hear Moon and Maris play, but they also were no less enthusiastic about the Celtic Crone Celebration or the Tibetan Barbershop Quartet. Theyd even applauded mealthough all I was doing was reading aloud.
I shook my head, remembering being seated in a folding chair backstage after our three encores. I mustve fallen asleep. But why were the three of us in a place nearly two miles from there--six hours later?
"The faeries brought us," Deirdre said. She moved to a lotus position on the couch and looked directly at me as if shed done so all her life. "They want us to spend some time together here."
I nodded, trying to think of a suitable experience Id had that would have prepared me. I once believed I had a calling for the ministry, but reading the King James Bible had removed that.
Epona stretched and opened her eyes. "You were right, Deirdre; the Bijou and West Ridge Ley Lines do intersect here at the office. How pleasant!"
"Destinys a funny thing," Deirdre said, "but its something I have such faith in that I never question it. Mr. Rural, would you mind making a cuppa tea for me and a mug of coffee for Epona?
I made the beverages and pondered what shed said. Of course, Id known these two colleagues, but this was a side of them Id never seen before.
"Last Beltane," Epona began, "I had a dream of three feathers drifting together in the wind that combs the ridgetop. One feather was from a crow, another from a hummingbird while the third came from a turkeys wing. I knew that the three of us would be writing something together, and I told my dream to Deirdre, who said, lets make it happen.
"And I provided the venue," Deirdre said. "The faeries concluded that the three of us should write a book together. While you would not be against such a project had we approached you formally, we really couldnt think of a time or a place where you wouldnt be distracted with ten thousand other projects."
I thought of my woodpile; the goats; the chickens: they were right: Id be distracted.
"Here, you cannot be distracted" she continued. So, until the snow is passable, the three of us are to create a book called The Fondis Chronicles."
"Why?" I asked.
"Destiny has some strange reasons," she answered, "but I prefer to look at the stars and realize that the moon and planets are singularly aligned to create something perfect."
"We have all the necessary materials," Epona observed, "and the room to create magic with them."
"And the three of us are going to live in a newspaper office and write essays while the biggest news story to hit the county is sitting outside?" I asked in disbelief. "That snow must have wiped out whole herds of cattle; pipes must be frozen up and down the countythis needs to be covered!"
"Thats what the telephones for, Roger," Deirdre said. "It will soon ring with stories, which you will take down. You will also download their digital photos on the computer. The entire newspaper for this month will cover five days of hardship, which you can write about while contributing to The Fondis Chronicles."
She was right. The storm was covered in its entirety by me, sitting at a computer in the front office of The High Plains Rider. In addition, I managed to win a couple of Journalism awards, and perfected a way of cooking salmon and rice that was superb.
- Roger Rural
At the time, I believed Mr. Rural tended toward exaggeration. Now I am certain of it. Three feet of snow is not an imprisonment. If one considers the long term patterns of the weather gods, it is quite a cyclical event.
If you think it reverse sexism that I should have asked Roger Rural to do the kitchen duties, perhaps you are correct. I really needed to realign my aura after being whisked through time and space. If I were more evolved, I perhaps wouldnt have felt disoriented and needing a cellular restructuring. Im not at all sure that Mr. Rural was on the same page with me.
The faeries twittered at that, knowing that literally we would be. Here. Now.
If you wonder how a dry witted, investigative reporter/farmer who once considered the ministry could get on with a walk-in from Sirius presenting as a representative of the Goddess, and a poet/horse whisperer who talks to geese, please proceed, gentle reader. Its an odd and intriguing trio, we three.
-Deirdre H. Moon
Odd, intriguing and generally fun to read, as you shall see if you have not given up on this enterprise before venturing forth into the unknown. Or that which seems to be known, but perhaps isnt, to be more precise. If precision is of value to you, you may find some aspect of that here. Or perhaps not. The choice is yours, of course.
The salmon with rice was excellent.
-Epona Maris
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