A surprise visit from an old friend
small made thing #109
Hello beautiful human,
An old friend came to call this morning and surprised me. She flew in on the broken song of a red-winged blackbird and the smell of lilacs. I didn’t even know she was here until I heard the sound of tiny bells just behind my right shoulder. I held very still for a minute, then slowly turned.
She hovered just behind me, smiling a little and quivering with anticipation. There was a roundness and depth to the sound of her bells I didn’t remember. Less tinkling and more a ringing. There were other changes too. Your wand…didn’t it used to have ribbons?
She nodded. It did, but I like this one better.
It looks like a twig. Is that..an apple blossom on the end?
Remember when you planted your tree? A few bits broke off. I found this in the grass. She gave it a small wave.
It doesn’t shoot sparks and sparkles any more.
No. She gave it another small twist. Look closer.
I watched more carefully as she gave it another little flick. It was nearly invisible, but a distinct current of air rivered up, away from the tip of the wand, into the tree tops. The leaves began to dance. One of the black squirrels popped its head up to find us. Yes I’ll be there soon, she waved up to it and it nodded and disappeared back into the tree. She turned back to me. I have a date later to get to know the neighbors, she explained.
I don’t have any sugared violets at the moment, I said. I’m sorry.
She shrugged. I sort of lost my taste for them.
I remembered when she used to always have sugared violets stuffed in her pockets. I wondered if I even knew her now. Not a sweet tooth any more? You’ve really changed.
She shook her head and there was a depth to her gaze I never noticed before. No. You have. And anyway. She perched on my wrist. I still like sweet things. She smiled. Have you heard of lemon drizzle? She sighed happily. It’s amazing. It can be added to cookies, cakes, anything. I’ve even invented a little lemon drizzle dance. She demonstrated. It seemed to involve lots of pirouettes and a couple of disco moves.
Lemons. That’s almost too much, I told her.
Well no one said I was subtle, she flew to a new corner to get a different perspective. I like this new Space you’ve made she called down to me. It has potential.
I think so too, I tapped my phone to wake up the calendar. Should we schedule a time…?
She laughed outright at that, guffaws and bubbles and chortles that doubled her over midair. The room seemed to vibrate and blur for a moment and the blossom on the end of her wand shook. I thought I saw a bit of pollen sift out but it might have been my imagination. You know I don’t work that way. She straightened herself, cleared her throat and flew to perch at the door. The deal’s the same as it always was. She looked straight at me and again I was astonished at the depth in her gaze. I show up. You stay ready.
And then she was gone.
Some of you may recognize my visitor from a previous incarnation of my creative life. She’s been away for a handful of years, or maybe I have. I’m never sure between the two of us exactly how it works and I know better than to ask too many questions.
All I know is, if we create An Inviting Space, guests show up and things happen.