I am not tired yet, from my Neighbor hood exploration and Graveyard stroll so what other possibilities of entertainment is out here for me? In the front garden, all of our Indoor-Outdoor and Colony Kitties lay down, paws tucked under, Egyptian style, sheltered by the Japanese Maple, or stretched out on the Stepping Stones. They look so cool and introspective as they sit upright on the front step, staring through slit eyes at some invisible spirits that only they have eyes to see. On my best behavior, I do not chase the cats out, instead I sniff, sniff, sniff, what is that smell?
Did another dog have the nerve to walk through our front garden? Did a dog pee on Momma’s flowers? The audacity – some people’s kids. Dog owners these days – they are just not up to the job. Momma never would let me walk in a neighbors’ front garden or yard, for that matter. Let me share a secret about how this patch of bad grass and bramble bushes turned in to a front yard garden. It began long ago and far away when Daddy still walked the earth plane.
Yet even before Momma and Daddy, there was Momma’s father who cajoled his children into looking at the unknown, to examine and question whether it was the wonder of nature, political or religious attitudes or just leaving behind the old to embrace the new. He would taking his children and their friends on a walk, (the Pied Piper) on a lazy, summer afternoon, through the mill yard, over the fence, up the railroad tracks till they arrived at a piece of land that had a big round hole in the ground, which he said was a fairy ring.
Now science might claim the hole was caused by a meteorite hurtling from outer space, creating the cavity in the earth. But no, Momma’s father had seen with his own eyes (well, at least once), on a moonlit night tiny iridescent fairies with their gossamer wings, their tutus the very colors of the rainbow, whirling on bejeweled pink satin slippers as they performed the Circle of the Fairy Dance, for only those who “believe”.
Back in Real Time, we live in a friendly urban neighbor hood wherein, in order to keep the tradition going, Momma had Daddy pull up the front lawn and carefully lay down rich top soil, then plant bushes, ornamental grasses and flowers. Next came stepping-stones and rocks that bleed a river of silver when the sun is high in the sky.
Of course, little statues and sun dials were put in place for tiny fairies to conceal themselves, peeping out from behind our miniature roses and Impatiens . Like The Field of Dreams, Momma and Daddy believed ‘if they built it, the Fairy Dance would come’. When the moon is high, Momma says, she does, that the fairies gather to effortlessly perform the Circle of the Fairy Dance.
Now it came to pass there was a lady across the street who, when she saw Momma and Daddy working in our garden, would wave and say they should come over and plant a garden for her (True Story). Of course Daddy said he would, when he got some free time. Unbeknownst to us, she had a lethal form of cancer, which she decided to treat with firewater, shunning conventional medicine. You know the weekend when the hydro failed here in The Big Smoke. Ontario blamed New York and New York blamed Ontario and Quebec, with all their abundance of natural power, laughed at all of us. That weekend, the lady across the street, slipped away, on to her greater reward, free of pain, man’s best friend, her faithful dog, at her side.
Momma and I like to think the lady’s very spirit crossed the street, to the garden she loved, wherein on the Moonlit Nights, we have a new Lead Ballerina, twirling in bejeweled slippers, fully embracing the magic of the Circle of the Fairy Dance. Come see come see, her energy now restored, her body once again lithe and strong, effortlessly spinning in pink pointe ballet slippers in the midnight moon light!
