The crumbling hillside I pass during my work commutes continue to give off a “here be sleeping megafauna things” vibe that continue to make me feel insignificantly small (but significantly noticed) when I make my high-speed greeting. Between the freeway and the creek eroding the hill (and exposing the dirt face where I feel the spirit most), is a mostly flat stretch of built-up yearly flood-deposited layers that for seven months of the year is completely neglected.

And then comes the planting for the harvest festival starting in mid September through to a Christmas climax.

As I make my speed runs coming and going, I feel the spirit watching over the crops growing in the hills’ literal shadow. Watching and jealousy guarding.

“You are surprised, [Little Sparrow]?”

“I am. I did not think you would take interest in an over commercialized, overfertilized display of arrogance.”

“Who is the arrogant one, [Little Sparrow]? Those who are continuing what was done here from the first time [humans] came? Or the one who claims to understand sight while blind?”

“… What am I not seeing?” I found it amusing I would be asking that question as the traffic came to a nearly complete stop. Brake lights extended down the hill and around the bend. I was going to be here a while.

“You see only your generation’s work here. Though to those in power, it serves only to increase their worth, to those who will enjoy and participate in the activities and feasts, it will increase their happiness and their bonds to each other. Those that work the land, work themselves. There is more to what grows here than [money].”

Traffic came to a complete stop. I thought about the lights and sounds of the festival once harvesting started. I thought about the Native Americans who were here before and had their crops here. This stretch of fertile land wasn’t large enough nor wet enough to support a commercial farming complex. But for a network of trading families, it was more than enough.

The spirit didn’t wait for me to express my epiphany. “[This hill I inhabit] is motionless dirt, but do you think me lifeless? Let those in power think these crops are farmed to empower them. From the moment [humans] first came here, these were grown for me. They are the [marks] of a [covenant], and as long as [the farmers] keep to their agreement, I shall keep to mine.”

Traffic started to inch forward. I am suddenly reminded the creek, and this section of freeway, lie along a short, but active, fault line. “Um… what was the agreement?”

“It is not yours to hold, [Little Sparrow], so it is not yours to know. Fly home, now. You have your own covenants to uphold.”

The spirit turned its attention away from me as the traffic jam suddenly loosened. Engines roared as vehicles were eager to resume what they had been created for. My own car kept pace with the speeding traffic as I turned over the symbols that served as the spirit’s voice.

I had thought magic had been driven into dark corners and overstuffed bags hidden in the back of storage areas. I knew consciously that the world was still magical, still spiritual. But I thought it was something you had to actively seek to find. That it was something driven to near extinction by the commercialization of everything.


You just have to open your eyes and see.

Strange Magic Week day 6!  Babies/Next Generation AU

The Festival (excerpt)

When Rock walked into dining room, he found his dad sitting at the table, sipping a cup of warm tea and reading a scroll.  Beside him was an empty saucer, save for a few crumbs, which Rock was certain came from Aunt Dawn’s cookies.  

The assumption made him smile.  With…grandma gone…it really bothered him sometimes how old his father was getting, but seeing him occasionally doing things even as insignificantly juvenile as sneaking a few sweets, did wonders to ease his concerns for a while.  

“Hey, dad.”  He greeted, taking the empty chair to the Bog King’s immediate right.

His father looked up with a warm smile.

“Hello, son.  How was yer date?”  

Rock’s pleasant mood dimmed and he slumped further into his seat.

“…It was…okay, I guess.” He sighed.

Bog frowned at the tone.

“Doesn’t sound that way to me.”  He countered, shifting his position to face Rock more fully.  “What happened?  Was it really that bad?”

“No!  No, it was fine.  I had fun.”

“Then why do ye look so glum an’ confused?”

“I…I don’t really know. Everything went great!  I picked her up, we had dinner, then we met the rest of the group to hang out by the river, we sat under a tree by ourselves, and we talked and threw rocks, then I took her home and…and…I kissed her.”

“Alright, so what’s the problem?  Is Melody a bad kisser or…?”

“No, it’s not that! It was nice; I liked it.  It’s just…I……um…I’m not sure how to describe it……I…she…there wasn’t…I mean, I think there…w-was……UGH! Why is this so hard to explain?!”  

He groaned, and thumped his forehead against the table.

“Take it easy, boy!” His dad gently chided, nudging him back upright.  

Rock took a deep breath, and tried again.

“Nothing went wrong! It was the perfect date!  We laughed, we teased, we kissed…but the whole time, and especially when I was kissing her……I didn’t…feel anything.  And I don’t understand why!  Melody’s smart and sweet and funny and beautiful, but…but…”

“But ye dorn’t like her that way.  She’s just a friend to ye.”


“Well, that’s nothin’ to get all upset about, Rock.  That’s just how things are sometimes.  It’s normal.”

“I-I know, but……it just bothers me because…there’s no reason for me not to like her that way!  She’s the best girl I’ve gone out with so far, I’ve known her for years, I can have a decent conversation with her, we have a lot in common; she’s a wonderful friend, but…I just can’t see her as anything more than that.”    

Bog gave the prince a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“I can tell ye first hand, that ye can’t force love, son.  It doesn’t follow any pattern or formula fer ye to control.  When it happens, it just happens.  Besides, yer still young.  There’s no rush fer ye to get into a relationship.”

“Yeah, I know, dad. It’s not like I’m wanting to get married or anything right now, it’s just that…well, I’m not a kid anymore.  I’m over eighteen, and I’ve never had a real girlfriend!  I’m sick of going on all these dates and having nothing work out! Most of my friends are dating all the time, and they seem pretty happy.  I want that, too…I can’t help it……I want…to find someone…special for me.  Does that make sense?”

“Yes, and ye will, Rock.” Bog promised, reaching over to ruffle the boy’s wiry, black hair.  “These things just take time, but if ye be patient and keep bein’ yerself, ye’ll find her before ye know it.”

“You really think so?”

“Trust me.”

Comforted, the Bog Prince grinned.  He could always count on his father to put things in perspective and make him feel better. His mother was a very close second.  

“Speakin’ o’ time,” Bog suddenly said, glancing at the hourglass on the mantle, “aren’t ye goin’ to be late to the Elf Festival?”

“Oh shoot!”  

Rock shot up from the table and rushed to the decorative mirror his mom had placed on the wall a few years ago, to straighten his mussed hair and check his teeth.

“Are ye takin’ another date?”

“No, it’s just gonna be me and Aster, but I’m supposed to get there first and save our usual spot. We like to sit by the hydrangea bushes ‘cause they have the best view of the stage, but aren’t too far from the food stands, and we-”  

He paused in his prepping when he noticed the rather amused stare the Bog King was giving him in the mirror’s reflection.  


“Nothin’.”  The king shrugged, quickly turning his attention back to his scroll, though his smirk stayed in place.  “Have a good time, son.”

“…Okay…thanks, I will?”

Rock squinted suspiciously at him.  

Was it really so surprising to him that he was spending the evening with Aster?  She was his best friend after all!  They’d done stuff like this lots of times, and his father knew that.


Regardless, he made his way to the exit, nearly bumping into his mother as she came in.

“Excuse me, sweetheart!” Marianne chuckled, sidestepping to give him room to leave.  “You heading out?”

“Yeah,” he nodded and kissed her cheek, “I gotta hurry!  See you guys later; don’t wait up!  I love you!”      

“Love you too!”  His mother called after him as he ran off down the hall.

Once he was gone, the Bog Queen, with an all-knowing look on her face, crossed the room to casually lean against her husband’s chair.

“Let me guess: he’s going with Aster again, isn’t he?”


Marianne shook her head with a laugh.  

“Will they ever figure it out?”

“Sure they will.” Bog replied.  “They’re both bright kids.  Who knows?  Maybe this festival will be the turnin’ point. After all…”

He traced a single claw down his wife’s arm and peered up at her with his enticing blue eyes.

“…we found each other at one.  Didn’t we, luv?”

“We certainly did. Though I’m ashamed to say that I believe I’ve grown soft in my old age.”

“Oh, no!  Say it isn’t so, Tough Girl!”

“I’m afraid it is!”  She sighed dramatically.  “I’d prefer…that no punches be thrown tonight!”

Bog gasped and clutched at his heart with mock anguish.

“Yer lack of desire for violence is devastatin’, but…I still luv ye anyway.”

“You better.”  Marianne purred, and pressed her lips to Bog’s in a tender, chaste kiss.  

When they pulled away, she yawned and made a show of stretching, before leaning into Bog’s ear to whisper in a much too innocent voice:

“I’ll be upstairs.”

She then sauntered out of the dining room, leaving Bog alone.  

Seemingly unfazed, the goblin examined his scroll again and took another calm, slow sip of his tea…




…before bolting after her so fast, his chair crashed to the floor.

Dysfunctional entities

Oh fellow man can’t you just love.
Oh my fellow men whats the need to push and shove.

Anger,hate fear,agendas,destruction and confirmative sheep.

Spreading like wildfire,the Angels weep.
The apocalypse creeps. Equality seeps into a place cold dark and deep.
Forgotten, placed in the mist of the Catacombs,the devil’s keep.

Forgiveness gone. People publicly shanned for saying something insignificantly wrong.
When will we stop playing this same old song.

Rinse and repeat. We are the definition of insanity.
Left or right?
Choose your seat.
As Politicians defeat,weel you in on the agendas you reek.
We are without a doubt flowing idle down shit creek.

For we as humans fear from insecurity
And it has drove us to lose our dignity.
Love is the Holy Trinity But misery loves its company and we will never accomplish anything being in a place of fear( mankinds Ultimate Enemy)