The Crone’s Backyard

I’m walking down some cobblestone streets after dark, peering into the lit windows imagining the lives that go on behind them. In one, I imagine the single individual stretched out on the couch is housesitting for a friend. In another, the person who is cleaning up the foyer is a maid hired to bring the main level back to order after a business party. In the third house I walk past, the young woman sitting across from the two adults just became hired to take care of the children of the home.

I am walking down more cobblestone streets after dark, peering into the lit windows imagining the lives that go on behind them. I near the end of the street when an old woman beckons to me from the front steps of her screened porch.

“Come in for tea.” She invites me.

I shake my head and call back, ‘I’m only imagining, I wasn’t really wanting to come inside.’

“Maybe it’s about time you did.” She walks to the front gate and bids me into her life.

The house seems cozy and familiar. Perhaps I’ve dreamt about this house before? The family pictures on the mantle and tables are faces I have seen before, though I couldn’t tell you their names. The old lady goes into the kitchen and sets the kettle on the burner. When I walk into the kitchen she leads me to the back porch.

“What’s out here?” I ask.

“Your destiny.” She replies. I turn toward her in confusion, but she only urges me to stop trying to sort things out and just enjoy the breeze and the crickets.

“Come sit here beside me.” She pats a spot on the wooden swing. I smile and comply with her wish.

It was nice to sit quietly in the dark. Though I knew if I wanted to, I could ask the old woman to share with me some enchanting stories. But why did I get the feeling she was only there to facilitate another meeting?

As if sensing my thoughts, she proceeds to scoot off the swing and says, “I think I hear the tea kettle whistling.”

“I don’t hear anything.” I replied.

“Believe an old woman.” She smiled back at me. “A crone always knows when it is ready. Now, I’ll be back in a few minutes. Have a good time.”

Have a good time? I thought. What did she mean by that? Unsure, I just settled my back in the swing and waited for her return.

Soon I grew tired of sitting on the swing. I longed to open the screen door to the backyard and sit on the cement steps. I wondered whether it would bother her if the insects came onto her porch? I thought about asking her, but I heard her whistling inside and thought she’d be back out soon enough to tell me otherwise.

I walked to the back door and stared out at the million of stars overhead. The willow tree softly swayed into the night. I looked for the moon, but saw none. I inhaled the night air as I sat down on the cool hard step. After a few moments, I noticed something moving in the sky. I squinted to see if I could figure it out, but it was too far away. I kept my eye on it and called out to the crone who must not have heard me for she didn’t come. Was it a UFO?

The object seemed to draw closer, almost as if it were heading in my direction, falling from who knows where. Soon it was well into view and I could tell it was a pair of chickens. Huge chickens, adorned with beautiful brown plumage. Maybe they were strange looking owls? Could chickens fly that high in the air? They were landing in the crone’s backyard. Were they hers?

Since I can communicate with the animals I thought when they land I would ask them their story, telepathically. What I didn’t count on is they spoke out loud to me. I heard them with my physical ears and their eyes pierced with their own awareness.

“We have traveled from another place to visit you, Amie.”

They knew my name! “Why?” I asked incredulously.

“You do not wish for us to be here?”

“No! No, that’s not it,” I responded quickly. “I just wondered why you would go to such effort for me.”

“We don’t go through such effort for you. You are not the only one we visit, and our feathers afford us the ability to travel as we please.”

“So are you here to just enjoy the evening with me?”

“Must there be a reason, Amie? Do you ask all your new friends to have a purpose for wanting to be around you?”

“No, of course not.” I was afraid they’d go if I didn’t stop asking stupid questions. So I shut up and just listened to the breeze. The two birds talked amongst themselves about this and that. I began to feel silly that I had egotistically thought they had strictly come to offer me a message. They probably just picked a spot to rest before moving on.

I decided to try and engage them again. “So, what do you think of the night?”

They shut up and looked at me.

“I mean, you have such a wonderful view from up there, what was it like?”

They looked at each other and for a moment I could have sworn their beaks smiled.

“The city sparkles like the stars above us,” said the larger brown one.

“Yes, you truly feel a dimensional shift playing when you glide in between the layers,” commented the slightly smaller tan one.

“Is it cooler up there?” I wasn’t sure what to ask, but I didn’t want to lose the moment.

“Cooler, perhaps, but we don’t notice it with our thick coat. Definitely good currents, though.”

This conversation was going to end quickly if I couldn’t think of anything more interesting to ask, which would require a longer response than a sentence.

Then surprisingly they asked me a question. “So, why were you walking the roads this time of evening?”

I wasn’t going to be frivolous and ask how long they had been watching me. “I was thinking things through. I meditate better when I walk. I’m not sure why I did it in the dark, except that maybe hiding in the night’s folds comforts me. I wasn’t planning on stopping anywhere, and to tell you the truth, I don’t know why I’m even here. I don’t know the lady who owns this house, but I have found myself unable to depart,” I stated, lost in my own thoughts.

“Maybe you were looking for a friend?” The smaller tan one said.

“Maybe you found one,” the larger brown one finished.

“Sometimes I wonder what I’m doing here? Will I live my whole life and never get it? Or maybe, I’m thinking too hard and not enjoying it enough? Or maybe, I know what to do and I’m too scared to claim it.”

“Maybe you just don’t want to do it alone,” they stated to me.

They were right, of course. Tears began to choke in my throat. “Is that wrong?” I asked desperately.

“The question is have you ever been alone?”

“I know Spirit is there for me,” I rationalized, “and sometimes certain friends or family, or even strangers, but why is it for the majority of the hike it has to be done by myself?”

“Maybe it’s because you can’t see above the trees. You see at eye level and don’t know the mountains and the fog and every living being watching from above. It’s not until you’ve trekked up that hill a bit further that you catch a glimpse of what was always around you.”

“For now, you feel a presence, but when you look around all you see is the vast, overwhelming forest.” The smaller chicken chimed in.

“All you had to realize is that the trees don’t cage you in. Your perceptions cage you. However, it’s not until one usually rises above the trees and takes in the horizon that he realizes how insignificant the trees actually are.”

“I hear you say it, but my heart doesn’t know the difference yet.”

“You will.”

“Will you stay here and teach me until it sinks in?” I asked.

“We may not have that much time.” The larger brown chicken, who was obviously the leader, replied. “If you look all around you, truly open your eyes, you will not have to be taught.”

“I’m sorry, but sometimes nothing is truly there.” I stated flatly.

“Only because your eyes have not learned to focus on what is truly there,” the bird responded back. Noticing my tears he continued, “Don’t fret about the past; only learn to face what is before you. Now, do you know what is before you?”

I looked out across the yard at the willow tree barely lit from the glow of the windows in the house. Were they talking metaphorically or literally? Was I supposed to be sorting out what they were telling me or looking straight ahead?

I looked to the sky tempering my emotions when I noticed something else flying in the air. It wasn’t up in the clouds; it was a thick swarm in the night air. “What the heck?” I asked aloud. Thousands of insects were swimming in the breeze, almost as if the dark were merely the countless bodies blocking out the light.

Then I realized that they weren’t insects at all, but my fairy friends and other astral beings. Some had wings, others didn’t, but all had purposely diminished their light for this gathering. Had they always been there?

“Do you see that?” I called out to the birds.

There was no response. I turned to draw their attention across the yard, but they were gone. I stood up from the steps and discovered they were flying over the house.

“Wait! Where are you going?” I shouted.

“We are off to other places, other times.”

“Yes, time to go, time to bid good-bye,” the tan chicken echoed.

“But I just found some more of our friends. There are mobs of them, don’t you want to stay and say hello?”

“We have. Don’t worry, we’ll come back before it’s time to go. Don’t waste any more time talking to us, this is why you think you are always alone. You either feel there is no one there or when you do notice another presence, you ignore it.”

I barely heard their last words as they headed off in another direction. I turned around and stared, as I re-focused my eyes back toward the trees again. There were swarms of them.

I stepped out into the yard. “Hello,” I said. “I’m Amie. I didn’t mean to ignore you. You were always there, weren’t you? I’m so glad I can see you now.”

A group broke off from the bunch and circled around me. One little fairy giggled and said, “We know who you are. You know who we are, but for the sake of the dream we love to play and come in many forms.”

I smiled in the warmth of her friendship and love. “It’s not unlike hide and seek then?”

“Yes! You taught us this game. You pretend you are not aware of us and then we can shape into whatever form we wish and then you seek us out. I’m having a most delightful time. How did you like our choice this time?”

The love of the fairies enchanted me. I knew exactly what they referred to and yet it was like I was meeting them for the first time. I decided to take off my cloak of unawareness.

“Oh, the shadow of night was one of your best yet!” I stated ecstatically. “I almost didn’t see you, and in fact I needed help.”

“You would have found us eventually.” She spun around me quickly.

I watched the others as they circled me, drawing me closer into the larger group.

“Once you were trees, then stars, then flowers. Once you were animals, and once the comb in my hair. Weren’t you?”

“You remember!” She dashed through the air with excitement and ease.

“But this time you cloaked your brilliance and hid your light, and I not only did not see you, but did not know you existed. Only when I realized my true essence could I see you.”

“Yes! Yes! It is so funny, Amie.” The little fairy held her tiny torso and curled into a ball, rolling in the air with bouts of giggles. “You tell us this every time you find us, but it is always so funny to hear it again.”

I had to laugh too. She was so cute.

“Shall we play again?” She asked.

“Not just yet. I have missed your company and would like to visit awhile.”

“Okay.” She responded and the group began to break up. Some sat on the branches of the willow; others swung from the limbs of the leaves. Some faeries gathered in the lawn while others perched upon me.

We talked; we danced; we sang. They all stayed in their disguised shadowy forms and I remarked how unusual that was.

“Oh, but Amie, we came to you in this dream in this form. In other dreams we come in other forms. We couldn’t change unless you started a new dream. Your mind is already accustomed to us like this. So we stay happily in this form just so that we can be with each other without interruption. However, if you wish, we could end this dream and begin another, so that you could see us all lit up?”

“No, that’s quite all right. I enjoy you in whatever form you have. Actually, it’s rather amusing because you all seem like you have been rolling around in the mud and are so dirty that only your eyes are noticeable.” We all laughed and began to dance again.

The birds soon returned and I was having a jolly time. I wished the crone had come outside to enjoy this gift with me too, but somehow I had the feeling she was present.

My eyes began to get weary staring into the dark all night long. I longed to see some light, and as if the sun heard my voice, the sky became lighter.

“Oh, look everyone, the sun is coming up,” I exclaimed. “Isn’t it pretty?” I jumped off the tree branch and saw a piercing light emerge through the hedge bushes. I drew nearer to catch a better glimpse.

“Look my feathered friends, it’s the sun!” I turned to show the chickens but they again had disappeared. I asked the fairy why they had gone I was so disappointed.

“It’s a few minutes before six,” she said. “They must leave before the sun rises, just as the stars in their courses.”

“I shall miss them, but we’ll see each other again.” I turned back to view the sun. The light shone brighter and brighter, but it wasn’t rising; it was coming toward me.

Magically, the bright light took form and a breath-taking fairy all lit up with its wings fluttering in the air, hovered in front of my face.

I clapped my hands in delight. I turned to my little fairy friend and exclaimed, “You did this, didn’t you?”

“I knew you’d like to see one of us all dazzling. We might not be able to change, but it doesn’t mean another one can’t come in all lit up.” She responded from her perch.

I ran over to her and kissed her on the cheek.

The lovely, brilliantly lit fairy had a surprise. She pulled a musical instrument from beneath her robes and began to play. I was completely enchanted. It was as if her song instructed my limbs to move. Surely her song made the sun want to climb above the trees to see who was playing that melodic tune.

The sky grew lighter and lighter. Purple, pink, gold, yellow, and blue crested the sky. All the fairies began to exit the backyard but my little fairy stayed behind. She left with the glowing fairy whom I fondly called, Morning Muse.

“Let’s play again soon,” I said, waving with gratitude and love.

In a flash they were gone; the day had come to stay. I looked up to the sky to remember where it had all started with those two birds. Or did it start earlier with the crone?

I walked back inside the house. The kettle was still on the stove, but she was nowhere around. The family pictures were gone. For a moment I thought she had moved out, or was it that she was just no longer needed? I smiled, walked out the front door, and headed home.