Submitted by Schuylar on Wed, 07/09/2003 - 9:33am.
Schuylar waves the dust of moving Oaken to the new site away from her face as she looks around at the desolate landscape (or lack thereof, as it were).
Submitted by Mugwort on Thu, 07/10/2003 - 11:52pm.
Mugwort cautiously enters. Her bare feet quietly move over unfamiliar ground. She sweeps the hair out of her eyes, dislodging a twig that clung to her unruly mane. Mugwort looks around and sees in a cloud of dust a familiar figure; and she smiles and nods to Schuylar.
Submitted by Sandpiper on Fri, 07/11/2003 - 9:58am.
Sandpiper walks slowly up to Oaken: a familiar landmark in an unfamiliar place. She smiles at Mugwort and Schuylar.
"Wow. I can't believe what's happened while I was away..." She lets the words trail off as she surveys this new place and looks for other hints of the old village.
come clattering up to the girls on her little cart and gives them all a hug~
It is pretty bare, but I'm sure if we set our minds to it we can grow something pretty good.
~out of a pocket she produces a small acorn she collected from one of the mightiest oaks of the forest and bends down to a patch of bare earth and digs a little hole where she plants the acorn. Each of the girls take it in turn to sprinkle a little water on the acorn from a watering can which has handily appeared and they each hold hands in a ring around the acorn to say a small prayer for the health and prosperity of their new land~
'Gods and goddesses, spirits of earth, air, fire and water may your blessings be upon this site. It will be what we make of it, but guide us that we may make it a place of friendship, joy and laughter. A place where we may share our sorrows and be comforted. A place of learning and growth. A community of ideas and ideals where mutual respect and tolerance allow all of us to express our deepest, strongest truths.
Mugwort takes a wooden bowl and walks along the heavily laden tables, gathering up a tiny bit of each dish and carefully placing it in the bowl.
As the girls gather round, Mugwort holds the Spirit Plate and says a prayer of thanks for the food. Then she places the wooden bowl under some nearby bushes.
You can tell the food is good, the conversations stopped as the women enjoy the fruits of the season. Savoring the tastes.
In these days of being able to purchase foods all year round in Supermarkets, we sometimes lose that feeling of connectedness to the seasons. But at times like these, when you savor the fruits of the season, you realize how good the vine-ripe tomato tastes and you remember how bland tomatoes taste the rest of the year. When you nibble corn-on-the-cob fresh out of the garden you remember how starchy it tastes when it has been shipped a long way and kept too long in storage. And fresh peaches are so juicy and sweet this time of year, they just don't taste the same the rest of the year.
Mugwort stands and raises her glass, and gives a toast to the plant people, who continue to help us on our spiritual path. Thanking them for the reminder of how we are tied to the seasons, even in this day and age.
Mugwort cautiously enters. Her bare feet quietly move over unfamiliar ground. She sweeps the hair out of her eyes, dislodging a twig that clung to her unruly mane. Mugwort looks around and sees in a cloud of dust a familiar figure; and she smiles and nods to Schuylar.