April 14, 2015

2015-04-11 11.46.45

Ragwen is a sprite I know. She lives in a small grotto by the tiny stream running under the green grass up there in the picture of her meadow I took the other day. She is an excellent storyteller. On full moon nights I visit her, and she tells me tales about witches, dragons, and amazing creatures of every stripe and feather in other dimensions while she glows a sparkly blue. I never look her in the eye. It is rude to gaze directly into the eyes of a sprite. She sings ‘Look away, look away’ if I forget. Oh, yes, she is a good singer, too. Redwing blackbirds gather to hear her on summer nights. Ragwen has given me permission to share the stories she tells me. I’ve done it a few times already. The next time I see her I’ll ask if I can share the story of her life. She hasn’t told her own story yet. How did she find her way to a mountain meadow in California? If she tells me, I’ll share.

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