The Misty World of Arial Hollyberry

Archive for the ‘Gnomes’ Category

Something was wrong! I didn’t know what it was, but my heart started doing a Gene Krupa drum solo in my chest and my breathing stopped, then started with a squeak. I thought I was having a heart attack. Men my age have them, you know, but I’ve learned the warning signs of a heart attack and this wasn’t it, nor was it a stroke. I think it was a panic attack. I was panicked but without a cause. Doesn’t that seem odd?

I was looking out the kitchen window at the ivy covered back fence. I stood there shaking and grasping the sink until my physical sensations settled down. That’s when I saw it. There was a beam of light like laser pointers, only it was an icky green instead of red. It was aimed at the ivy near the round outdoor thermometer. I couldn’t tell where it was coming from. My best guess was across the street, but lasers pointed at the moon 238.000 miles away have illuminated spots that were seen from earth. If this was a laser its source could be anywhere there was a direct line of sight.

As I watched the green pinpoint started to grow and the ivy leaves scorched where it touched. I was shocked but fascinated. I had never seen anything like this and I wondered what I should do. If it grew any bigger it could cause some real damage. What if it shifted from the fence to the house? That’s when I got scared. We had to get out. We had to let someone know that our fence was under attack by, by what?

I didn’t know but I didn’t want to wait any longer to find out. I went rushing through the house yelling for my wife, but she didn’t answer. I didn’t know she was out, but she sure wasn’t in. I grabbed for the dogs who were yapping like a pack of idiots because they didn’t know what was going on. Better to yap than to be caught unprepared. The silly things ran away from me every time I tried to pick them up. I had to herd them into a couple of kennels so I could carry them out to the car. You’d think a four pound dog couldn’t put up much of a fuss, but they can. I don’t know if they were reacting to my fright or if they sensed something wrong too. They were bumping, and thumping against the sides of the kennel so hard that I could barely hold on to them. The handles on top were straining and I was afraid that they might break and they’d tumble down the stairs kennels and all. I was lucky, no breaks.

We reached the back door when I heard something strange above the caterwauling of the dogs. I know, dogs don’t caterwaul, but these three were coming very close to disproving that belief. It was loud, and obnoxious, and high pitched. I didn’t think I could hear a bomb go off in the din they created. But I heard something. It sounded like a woman shouting at me, “Mr. Bill, Mr. Bill don’t go away and forget us! We’re scared too.”

“Wha?”

It must have been the ringing in my ears and my overactive imagination. “Nah,” I thought, “I didn’t hear anything.”

Then just as I turned back to the door again, I heard it again, “Mr. Bill, don’t you dare leave this house without us!”

I turned around and there standing just outside of the kitchen were two little people only six inches tall. My eyes bugged out. I dropped the kennels, which caused the dogs to get louder if that was even possible, and I fell down hard on my butt. “Oh great,” I thought, “Here I am running around the house like a crazy person, scaring the wits out of our dogs, and the truth is I’ve gone around the bend to the funny farm and climbed the slippery basket-weaver’s tree.”

The little folk took this chance with me seated on the ground to run up my legs, scramble up my shirt and perch on my shoulder. The female said, “Hurry, we have to go. There is going to be a breach in the portal and we can’t be here when it happens.”

I didn’t move. The male of the pair slapped my ear and yelled, “Get up, yer big lug — we don’t have time for yer amazement. You can be amazed later — right now we gotta go.” With that he yanked the hair at the nape of my neck and screamed, “Go, go, go!”

So I did. Luckily the car door opened easily. In went the kennels. The tiny folks scrambled from my shoulders on to the front seat beside me. I jerked the door closed and backed the car down the drive. There wasn’t a moment to lose, I turned and shot down the street. Car, kennels, little guys and me, rushing headlong into the darkness. I glanced over at the little man and woman struggling to get under the broad seat belt and started to think. Were these the gnomes that lived under our sink? My wife said they were there, but I had never seen them. Not until today that is. What else has she been talking about that seemed too fanciful to be believed — fairies, shape shifters, and centaurs? What if it was all true? What if? The thought made my stomach queasy. I didn’t want to think about it anymore. Besides I had better figure out where we were going and what we were going to do once we got there.

© Tami Ruesch, The Misty World of Arial Hollyberry, 2009-2010

With Arial’s help, I have found my way back to the mortal world, and my garden. I have never been to a midsummer faerie festival and I’m here to tell you that it can take a lot out of a person, even a person like me with faerie blood flowing in her veins.

The summer season is progressing and I can feel a touch of fall in the air, Lughnasa, which marks the beginning of the harvest (Aug. 12th) has come and gone and we are quickly advancing on Mabon.

Mabon is celebrated on the Autumnal Equinox, the time when day and night are equal and is sometimes called the second harvest, the Festival of Dionysus, or the Feast of Avalon. In times past, a good harvest meant surviving the cold winter months.

At Mabon, we  reflect back on our accomplishments of the year and give thanks for all that we have achieved. We plan for the dark cycle of the year, but look  forward to the future and the promise of spring.

In looking back, I am proud of my accomplishments but it is Warren, my little gnome friend, who surpasses me . This year, I decided to grow a garden. In the spring, Bill surprised me by digging up some stumps so that I could plant a faerie cottage garden. Warren helped where he could but kept getting under foot so I insisted that he just watch. I planted several different  perennials and some herbs, and when the weather warmed up a little, I planted some snapdragons and petunias.

When the cottage garden was planted and happily growing, I turned my attention to the vegetable  garden. I planted tomates and cucumbers, green peppers and zucchini.

After all the starts were planted, I had one little tomato plant left over. It was the smallest plant of the bunch and I thought that I would just throw it away but Warren ask if I might let him have it. I didn’t know where to plant it so I just stuck it in my flower garden. I put a cage around it and left it for the gnomes to tend.

August has come and the tomato’s are ripening. Mine are having some difficulty, the spring was wetter than usual so I have been fighting powdery mildew and blossom end rot. Warren’s tiny tomato plant on the other hand has grown into a gigantic vine and has taken over the entire flower garden! I knew gnomes had a way with gardens, that was one of the reasons I asked Warren and Odette to come and live in mine, but this is amazing. I have never seen a tomato vine get so big.

It has grown up and over the cage, then down and over all my perenials. Warren loves teasing me, he is very proud of his work and has offered his expertise for our garden next year. I think I will take him up on his offer, but if all my tomato’s grow this big, I will have to have more space.

The days are getting shorter and soon the fall faeries will arrive to help usher in the hibernation of winter. As much as I love the fire faeries of summer, I can’t wait to see my winter faerie friends again. Arial has been  spending a lot of time lately looking toward the north in anticipation. As I watch her now, I wonder what the dark winter nights have in store for us…it has been to quite at  Mrs. Shunner’s house.

© Tami Ruesch, The Misty World of Arial Hollyberry, 2009.

I had completely forgotten about the night nettle quill. “That’s right! My knee went numb, and then…and then…I can’t remember anything, except that we were worried about…trolls?” Elendain and Odette exchanged knowing glances. “Goblins missus.”  Odette offered a weak smile and patted me on the hand. “That’s okay missus, it’s best ya don’t remember, things turned out just fine.”

I uncovered my knee. It was a little swollen and bright pink. There was a small black dot in the middle where the quill had stuck. Elendain moved over and felt around the knee cap. “The swelling is going down nicely, stand up and see if you can walk on it.” I stood as directed, aside from a dull ache when I bent it, it seemed ok. I looked up at the tall elven queen. “I can walk on it, it’s hard to bend, but it doesn’t hurt much.” I walked over to the window of the circular room and looked out at the sun in the treetops.

The ground below was shrouded in early morning mist that swirled around the massive trunks of the trees. As I stood watching, a large hairy arm with long, grimy green nails shot out of the fog and grabbed onto a low hanging branch.  A low throaty groan echoed through the valley as the beast attempted to heave itself up the tree toward one of the lower elven dwellings.

I jumped back. “What is it with these hairy arms all the time? Shooting out of anywhere and everywhere!” Elendain peered over the edge then pulled a small silver flute from around her neck. She quickly played four or five high sharp notes. A crowd of Elves flooded from the dwellings above us. They took positions along the rope bridges and prepared to send a volley of arrows toward the matted hairy form.

The Undak reached for another branch and slowly pulled itself out of the mist, closer to its intended goal. As soon as its body had cleared the hazy gloom, twenty arrows sped through the morning light, hitting their target in perfect unison. The Undak fell back with a thunderous roar. Grabbing at the arrows it fell, parting the swirling mist and hitting the ground with a heavy thud.

Without a sound, the archers disappeared back into their respective huts. Elendain played another series of notes, high and thin. A new group of elves moved down the bridges toward the motionless pile of greasy hair. I looked down at Odette who was jumping up and down, frantically trying to get a glimpse of the frightening beast. I picked her up so she could see and pointed out the window at the group. “They must be the clean up crew.” She made a grimace, “Tis a frightful sight.” She turned her head. “Lets not look anymore.”

I nodded agreement and we followed Elendain through the door, heading for higher ground, and the bright morning sunlight.

© Tami Ruesch, The Misty World of Arial Hollyberry, 2009.