Wow. It was quite the night at the Comm Grid. I was supposed to get let go early tonight, right at the height of the witching hour, when the gremlin hoard struck three links at once. Between the spell castings and the record keeping, I was two hours late heading out.

Not much to say tonight, I'm really tired, going after a restorative draft and a *pillow* spell. Have a great night out there in the blogverse, and happy *gravystuffing* to you all!

*POOF*

Ok, enough of the *philosophy* spells. It's been a long week already. The Comm Grid was very active last night, it was many hourglasses before I was able to break free and fly the dragon home. Also, there is a little snowing going on in this corner of the blogverse. At least there was yesterday. The season of the Snow Goddess has arrived, in all it's stark beauty.

Dreaming Us:

You have to see it's a benevolent God,
That allows his dreams,
To choose...

Their dreams.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/27/2002

Author's Comments:
Just thinking.

I'm rather in a *Philosophical* mood today, so I shall look inward to my vision, and see what the #Universal Truth# allows me to imagine today:

Facets:

I know not all will agree,
But this thing I seem to see,
So many spirits all shaved off the same block,
Santa and the Winter Goddess,
My very own Tarash Sparau,
Father Time and Baby New Year,
The Grim Reaper,
The Greek pantheon and the Norse,
The Earth spirits of the Americas,
Every piece and parcel of the mystic force,
If God is pure imagination and understanding,
Then we all worship the same God,
But because of the distortions in our spiritual vision,
There are a rainbow of facets,
Through which different people see,
Because in the end we relate to anything Holy,
Through some point on the crystal of shining faith,
So does it matter so much,
Which face you saw through?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/27/2002

Author's Comments:
I believe very strongly there is one God underlying this universe,
and everything we imagine, including ourselves, are just facets
of the universal mind of God. This is why faith matters so much.
God would and will exist without us, because there are so many
facets of God that the only way we can exist is if we believe we do.
Fear is just inverted faith - a belief that there is something outside
God which aims against His will. Stop believing in evil, and it
fades into the nothingness of misconception unless some other facet
believes that fear must exist. Christ said we could all walk on water
or move mountains if we only believed. That we are all sons of God.
We are as the things we imagine, specks within the imagination of God.
We remain separate from him because we believe we are.

And with all that, I must be off for a *PILLOW* spell. Thank you all for visiting!

*POOF*

First Snow:

The night is hushabye dark,
Christmas lights appear overnight,
Some form of wondrous magic,
And look out where the street light is,
You can see big puffy white flakes,
Falling, glinting, shining, twinkling,
There is no wind and straight down,
The temperature that perfect early Winter breath puff,
Digging the window scraper out from beneath the seat,
Seeing the steaming pond surrounded with surreal white,
Driving off the headlights show Winter in a flattering light,
Slow and easy or the sled will slide,
But Heaven just helped me immensely,
I feel just like a child full of magic,
Delighted with a simple white inch blanket.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/25/2002

Author's Comments:
Our first snow of the year in The Great Windy was tonight.

Sunfire On Ice:

The sun shines this morning,
On fresh white snow,
The first of the year here,
The pond is frozen over for the first time,
And the sunlight is burning across the ice,
Everything is bright and shining,
Freshly white and crystal flaming.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/25/2002

Author's Comments:
Beautiful...

Just a bit of early Christmas magic for all you Watchers out there, and I hope you have a wonderful day!

Rupert Roars, The Christmas Lion:

Rupert Roars was a Christmas Lion,
All gold and shiny made of glass,
He was from the Brookfield Zoo,
But he was such a nice lion they let him go,
His fur mane was white and frosty,
Like snow upon liquid gold,
And he had wise blue eyes that looked a little sad,
And silvery shiny cheeks with black whiskers,
His favorite thing was to climb Christmas trees,
And hang from a little silvery hook,
Delighting children on Christmas morning,
For how many children see a friendly lion,
Small enough to cup in their little palm?

Often the tree was so big,
That some Mommy or Daddy,
Had to help little Rupert Roars into the tree,
And they would put the silver pin,
Right in Rupert's magic hat,
Which was shiny silver and gold,
Just like Rupert himself.

One day when a little boy tried,
Really tried to help Rupert into the tree,
He pushed so hard he broke poor Rupert's hat,
Which made Rupert very scared,
Because you must see,
Rupert was a toy lion,
And even though he was a toy Christmas Lion,
Broken toys often meet a lonely sad end,
Off in the trash heap,
Even when Christmas Snow falls.

Rupert was a very lucky toy, though,
And the little boy's Daddy kept Rupert,
And the pieces of Rupert's broken hat,
Which were sharp and would bite because they hurt,
And he kept poor Rupert in a dark box,
Alone with the remains of his broken hat,
For years poor lonely Rupert was in the box,
But still the Daddy kept him,
Because it would have broken his heart,
To throw Rupert away.

You see,
The Daddy was once a little boy,
Who went at Christmas to the Brookfield Zoo,
And found a friendly little Christmas Lion,
Who had asked very nicely,
To come hang in the little boy's Christmas Tree,
And the little boy had loved little Rupert Roars,
Whom only on Christmas did he get to play with,
Because of course,
Rupert Roars was a magic Christmas Lion,
Who could only talk on Christmas Eve,
And then on Christmas day,
For the rest of the year his spell was still,
And he had to live in the box.

Each Christmas,
The Daddy who once was a little boy,
Opened the box and told poor Rupert,
"I wish you could hang in my tree,
And roar that the presents are coming soon,
Just like when I was seven, Rupert.
I miss you hanging in the tree."

Poor Rupert was lonely,
But at least he knew the little boy,
The one who had grown up to be a Daddy,
But was still Rupert's little boy,
Would never forget him,
And had never thrown poor broken Rupert away,
It's awful for toys thrown away.

One year the Daddy was putting up the tree,
And he had a friend who was secretly a Whizzyrd,
And liked to do nice magic spells,
Especially 'round Christmas,
Because that's the best time of year for good magic,
And the Daddy showed his friend the Whizzyrd,
Poor broken Rupert and his broken hat,
And the Whizzyrd thought Rupert was a really nice Christmas Lion,
So the Whizzyrd took Rupert back to his tower,
And started calling on Santa for Toy Magic,
To fix poor Rupert's broken hat.

Rupert wasn't quite sure,
And he couldn't speak yet,
Because it wasn't yet Christmas Eve,
But the Whizzyrd's crystal screen glowed,
And out popped some old Elf tools,
A little jar of Liquid Fixit,
And a roll of Christmas Lion tape,
And red and green Christmas pens,
And the Whizzyrd and Rupert heard Santa chuckle,
And say in a merry yet gravely voice,
"These are all you need to spin your magic,
And fix little broken Rupert Roars all up,
Because I've seen his name always on my nice list,
And he and his little boy,
Well, they never stopped believing,
That one day Rupert would once again,
Roar in the Christmas tree."

The Whizzyrd set to Fixit painting,
Poor Rupert's broken hat,
He set to Lion Taping,
The hat on Rupert's golden head,
And because Christmas magic is white,
Just like Christmas Snow,
He took the red and green Christmas pens,
And painted little Rupert's hat,
To match the colors of Christmas,
And just as he finished,
The Christmas bells started to ring,
It was midnight on Christmas Eve,
And for the first time in many years,
Golden Rupert Roars roared in pure joy!


Suddenly the flames leapt in the tower fireplace,
And Santa Claus walked out,
His blue eyes were smiling,
His red cheeks were ruddy,
And his cherry wood pipe glowed a curl of smoke,
Which Santa stepped right out of,
Like the Christmas Spirit he was,
And held out his hand.

The Whizzyrd knew what was coming,
And he heard Rupert Roars purr,
As Santa vanished into the pipe smoke around the chimney,
Rupert Roars the Christmas Lion,
Was the first toy to ride twice in Santa's sleigh.

The next morning,
Christmas morning,
The children woke up early,
And ran hustle bustle down the stairs,
And the Mommy and Daddy followed,
Rubbing sleep out of their yawny eyes,
And everywhere out the windows,
Where there wasn't window frost,
They saw a white blanket of snow,
And big sparkly white flakes falling,
And there under the tree a great pile of presents,
But then everyone was looking at the Daddy,
He had a big crocodile tear in his left eye,
And he walked over smiling,
Just as golden Rupert Roars the Christmas Lion,
Hung right in front of him on a tree branch,
And roared a great Christmas roar!

The joy of Christmas,
Came back to them both just because,
They remembered the two things Christmas needs,
Always love kindly forever,
And always in yourself and love believe.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/;26/2002

Author’s Comments:
This story was inspired by the broken Christmas lion ornament
I just repaired for a friend. The lion he got many years ago
at the Brookfield zoo, and never threw away. I figured out
how to fix the lion, and my friend was happy like a little boy.
Somehow, I think the lion looks happier, too.

The crystal screen is slowly coming back to order, probably the thing is as well ensorcelled as it's ever been. It's so good to be back in the blogverse. Here a couple of seasonal spells I cast this evening:

Christmas Star:

They say the star shined in Heaven,
The night was cold and seemed lonely,
Yet there were happenings abounding,
Lying in freezing cold and the pains of birth,
Husband unable to do more than watch,
The Star fell from Heaven,
And breathed the cry of an infant,
Breath you could see in the cold night air,
Just as the witnesses came under it's guiding light,
The Star of Christmas nursed a mother's loving breast,
And grew into a message we so desperately needed,
Still need more than any other,
The keys to the Kingdom of Heaven,
Are found in two simple words,
Love, and Faith.
Believe in a loving God,
And live a loving life,
The star shined this into the world,
And everything else is just window dressing,
The blur of the dull glass of interpretation's panes.
Believe in a loving God,
And live a loving life,
That's all you need.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/25/2002

Author's Comments:
This is what really shines about Christmas.

***********************************

First Snow:

The night is hushabye dark,
Christmas lights appear overnight,
Some form of wondrous magic,
And look out where the street light is,
You can see big puffy white flakes,
Falling, glinting, shining, twinkling,
There is no wind and straight down,
The temperature that perfect early Winter breath puff,
Digging the window scraper out from beneath the seat,
Seeing the steaming pond surrounded with surreal white,
Driving off the headlights show Winter in a flattering light,
Slow and easy or the sled will slide,
But Heaven just helped me immensely,
I feel just like a child full of magic,
Delighted with a simple white inch blanket.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/25/2002

Author's Comments:
Our first snow of the year in Plainfield was tonight.

I do love these *POETRY* spells.

I am one tired whizzyrd! I've been going through the roof trying to restore all the spells on my crystal screen, it got flushed right down to a completely blank screen. There is definitely a side benefit, though. I got rid of some agravating *glitch* and *quirk* spells that were jazzing out the crystal screen. I just got done putting an anti *codebug* spell into my crystal screen. Looks like things are finally going right with this machine

Time for that *pillow* spell.

*Habrus Cadabrus, whizstle and hoooooowl, then peace and quiet, the sandman's in town.*

*POOF*

Well, the last two days have been no *pillow* spells at all, and massive upgrade *surgery* spells on my poor crystal screen. I just got it back in action this afternoon. With funtioning Dee Essell! Now, time for that way overdue *pillow plop* spell.

*POOF*

Interesting. I was wandering my way home from the Comm Grid this morning, riding the dragon through the Physiverse. Now, out there, it's supposed to be the peak morning for something called The Leonid Showers. This is an interesting and powerful vision where rocks scream the sky at fantastic speeds, leaving glowing trails through the eythre and ayre as they burn like Demofire. It was supposed to be possible to see up to two thousand of the blast balls from outer space per *hourglass* spell. Unfortunately, there was a slight *fog* spell surrounding the Great Windy area, as well as a full Moon, and close to sunrise. Combined with the huge excesses of *torchlight* spells around the Great Windy, and all I saw was one measly rockfire trail out of the corner of my eye whilst in the middle of maneuvering the dragon. Next year, I shall go out into the Wilds where it is much darker.

Now I do have to say, the faint red glow of Sol's birthing, the spectacular view of Lady Venus glowing, Father Jupiter shining, and Orion the Hunter and all their twinkling friends was quite beautiful. All natural magic, no greenspells required. I certainly do love the chance to just look up and enjoy at times.

The Comm Grid was rather peaceful and quiet tonight. Just the usual faint *tincan* spells going off and rattling briefly as gremlins snuck past, but they did no more than nibble, really. I did work with a newly formed whizzyrd clan, the Teedeess AcheBeeceess, ensorcelling some new links. They made a couple of minor flaws in their castings, but I was able to detect them and get the voice castings in progress.

Also lately, I've been studying a new form of White Love Magic. Not the *redlight* kind, or the *goldring* kind. This is the *kindness*, *peace*, and *blessings* kind. It requires a good deal of inner calm to operate, but it is really good for all whizzyrds in this plane of existence. The more practitioners there are, the less *Horrible Blast* spells the Dimuns can turn loose on the Blogverse, Physiverse, and most importantly, other whizzyrds. Dimuns feed on *FEAR* spells, they love raised *hackles* for breakfast. The Triumvate of White Love and *FEAR* spells are opposite energies, so if one is present it tends to push away the other. Let's just say that the keep and the life will both stay much happier and neater with *TRIUMVATE* spells than with *FEAR* spells, and conjure peace through *blessing* life's *flip-flop* points. *Flip-flop* points are places on the path where you can only choose one direction, and the steps down the path tend to lead to one form of magic or the other. Can you guess upon which path you find most practitioners of *Blech Mejik*?

Well, anyway, I think it's time for one of those wonderful *pillow* spells.

Good night all, and many *BLESSINGS* to you. Thank you for visiting my little keep here in the Blogverse.

*POOF*

This was from about five this morning, there was a powerful BLogfog, and I was unable to scry through to release the missive.

This is fun. I've added a new quill and parchment for a Visiting Whizzyrds' Registry at the bottom of the *Spell Book* pages, and also registered the *Spell Book* with the Bloghop Whizzyrds' Guild, complete with a *ratings* spell. I quite like that. I've also done a bit of reading other whizzyrds' *Blogspells*, and left a couple of notes. Now to check the inbox for fresh quills from all over the BLogverse. I'm expcting a couple of missives at any time now.

Thank you whizzyrds, Watchers, and other Blogdizens, for checking in at the *Spell Book*. Please stop by often, and *Blessings* to you all.

AquarianM *POOF*

There's been a lot going on this past weekend.

Saturday, I went to Tike Wondo school, and we had a double class. Being fully Six Feet Six and two hundred and eighty pounds in my white Tike Wondo Whizzyrds' Uniform, it tends to get a bit interesting. There was the time the previous instructor was teaching us all the *Flying Sidekick* spell, and he needed a very powerful magical shield to ward off this much flying whizzyrd. But I digress. The instructress Magette Anjliek, had another instructor there this session. He has trained with the Olympiad Tike Wondo Masters clan, and his training methods were quite unique. Aside from the usual *Block*, *Punch*, and *Kick* spells, (As always preceded by a *FLEXERSTRETCH* ritual) we learned to cast such spells while in motion, and got to beat up giant stuffed bean bags and even worked minor *Spar* practices. We had a double length class, since the instructors will be away on Holiday next week. I am going to a couple of week night classes to gain more spell practice during the week.

Today, MyLady Seer's Parent whizzyrds conjured a magical feast at Ye Old Mill Inn, which is set in an old limestone village along the Foxhound River somewhere amongst a beautiful tree park. There was a moat just out the window, and flotillas of magic birds were paddling about, which quite enraged the moat monster as he was bespelled from eating them. I could sense his evil vibration from below the still waters, but no one and no creature had breached Magic Etiquette, so he wasn't allowed to eat while we were about the place. After a wonderful dinner amongst many beautiful decorations and *twinklight* spells, MyLady Seer and I walked about the tree park along the river, crossing a *Choo Choo* bridge covered underwalk path, we went over the river and walked down the way, admiring the beautiful old limestone keeps along the gentle looking waters just at dusk. We stopped at the Palacial Herringbone Inn, and the bar whizzyrds conjured up the most marvelous hot coffee and cream drink, with quite a *kick* spell underneath. It tasted absoplutely wonderful, and the potion was a visual delight as well, steaming in large clear goblets. It was similar to the favored drink of many Irish whizzyrds, but also had certain *spice* spells and a I suspect a *Cinnabon Liquor* spell as well. The bar whizzyrds were not divulging the ancestral secret potion components, however. They simply asked for their greenspells and smiled. The place was absolutely beautiful inside, with a grand staircase winding up into the tower, limestone fireplaces, oaken doors and trim, large vases of fresh flowers, and a buttery yellow hue to it's heavy earthen walls. Absolutely luxurious. We shall have to cast a few greenspells into an overnight *abode* spell at the place in some future memory casting.

After the wondrous potions, we rode Fandango back to the keep, by way of the China Red Dragon Flagon, where we picked up a small bite on the fly, and fed Fandango a large draft of *Flaming Petro* potion. We also traded a few greenspells for some *vision discs* and spent an enchanting evening casting *vision* spells and crafting wonderful *Snugglers*. I am not at liberty to further discuss our quiet evenings' castings.

So, I have crafted a new spell commemorating the Old Quills' Home and celebrating their new keep. The Parchment Angel Club is moving to a new *webkeep*, and this was the casting I quilled for them:

Peekin' In The Windows:

I walked in the snow all about the new house,
It was cold outside,
I let loose a mighty shiver,
Breath puffing up in the dark air,
My footprints all about the door,
Under the windows behind the shrubs,
They had been moving our furniture in,
I could see the leather bound bags,
Travel stickers all about them,
But my keys had not yet arrived,
It was so late all were asleep,
No one could yet hear me knocking,
So I took one more look,
And I trudged back to the old homestead,
Blue walls and familiar door knockers,
All the scribblings we'd made on the walls,
A thousand little memories of good times,
And I spent one last night back in the old place,
Laid my head back on the floor,
Turning parchments about,
Light from one old candle stub,
Found somewhere in Imagination's old closet,
A few old family photos still to be going,
I stoked the fireplace another log,
Embracing it's eerie magical blue glow,
Knowing 'twould soon be cold, dark,
But that life would go on in fine style,
As soon as those keys showed up at the Postmaster's!

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/18/2002

Author's Comments:
Just reminiscing and walking about.
(Moving PCLA to a new forum host.)

A spell vision I was granted this past eve:

Goldfire Sky:

Overhead,
Grey-white-purple-yellow sheet,
Interspersed with robin egg blue,
Look West and see the fire,
Thin razor line of gold flame,
Shining burning bronzed cotton puffs,
Dusky orange almost pastel soft pillows,
A vee of geese races through the fire,
And the burning gold orange ball breaks free,
Flung out as the tattered burned cotton floats East,
If I could paint as the masters,
How you would see fire in the sky,
But God and His Sunset Angels,
They have never failed.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/16/2002

Author's Comments
I sat on the dragon just watching sky this evening.
It was glorious.

This is more *PRAYER* than *Spell*, so here goes:

Addition's Attrition:

"Walk with me through the Valley of the Shadow,
Will you please,
And picture with your brilliance the fingers of sunshine,
As the clouds begin to depart."

I see great joy in each heart that adds to the wave of kindness,
The shadows will soon fall away,
We must have faith in the world of the loving come to pass,
If all we picture is clouds and blight,
Surely such has no choice but to form,
But if in each heart there is a choice to be loving and kind,

Then the shadows fall by attrition,
Because of a gentler addition.

"If a man shall beleaguer his neighbor in continuance,
Saying naught but his visions of fault,
Then how can the neighbor walk above such faults?
Choose instead the gift of benevolent imaginings,
Should the person next door stumble and fall,
Let them not hear 'You are wicked, foolish, wrong,'
For his mind will take this a little more to heart,
Each time in the hearing.
Far better should your neighbor hear,
'Next time you will prevail with better,
For you have seen where lay the mistake and learned.'
Let his mind take this to heart."

Then the shadows fall by attrition,
Because of a gentler addition.

"When you speak to yourself,
Tell yourself,
'I am kind and strong and caring and peaceful,'
Not 'I am weak, failing and a source of pain,'
For every time you tell yourself what you are,
You become just a bit more so,
And if you do not speak to yourself of love and strength,
Who will do so once you no longer possess these things?
It is said you must love yourself to love others,
Be loving when you tell yourself who you are."

Then the shadows fall by attrition,
Because of a gentler addition.

"All that is begun and carried on in fear,
Will beget only more pain,
All that is begun in love and kindness,
Has a far greater chance of bringing joy and hope,
See within which you carry in your travel bag,
As you embark upon your journey."

Then the shadows fall by attrition,
Because of a gentler addition.

Only by additional hearts choosing to see a better future,
Will such a future come to be.
Choose love and kindness every chance you can.

Then the shadows fall by attrition,
Because of a gentler addition.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/16/2002

Author's Comments:
This is something I've come to believe more
strongly every day. We and our world
become our collective beliefs. I want to be
more careful of mine. Our words hold far
greater power than many of us will ever know.

Time for a *coffein* spell. It's been a frustrating night on the Comm Grid. We have a *VoIP* spell link to the Webvoice that just will not report an active link, even though it seems to be carrying voices. We have appealed to the Maker tribe wise men to get the correct spell components, meanwhile the *tincan rattle* spell that goes with it is rattling loudly because it is detecting a gremlin bite we can't heal in the link.

On top of that, I lost my magic words that let me look into crystal screen and see the *VoIP* spells, so I have to get a new one from an Engineering whizzyrd in the *VoIP* spell cabal. Those whizzyrds are daylight only, none of them are night bats like me.

I spoke to my sister, the Sorceress of Christmas for this year, she is planning all the *chow* spells and *game* spells and suchlike for this year's gathering of the clan. She has gained use of a large keep in the Frozen North, and we cast voices to compare notes and just keep in touch. After all, clan is what really matters.

I am only five days from getting the *Dee Essell* spell crafted by the Yayhoo Beecees. I received a *Oopeeiss* spelled box full of magic tricks at the front gate of my keep this afternoon. There were *filter* spells, a *Ceedee Rum* spell, a *NIC* card, and most powerful of all, a *Dee Essell* Mowed Em. My palms are itching just thinking about getting my *Dee Essel* spell working!

Well, back to the Comm Grid, I don't want any more gremlins getting loose. Thank you Watchers for stopping by, and good wishes and *lucky charms* to you all.

Oh, by the way, just so you'll all know, a *SPELL* is major magic, but a *spell* is minor magic, and there are various grades of magic between.

*POOF*

Time is short today, the hour glass has lots of stuff marked up on it to do. It's the Seer's Birthday, and I've been conjuring cards and presents...

I also just sent some more *tinker* and *cobble* spells off to the LUF whizzyrds to see if they can add them to their idea magic.

Last night at the Comm Grid was extremely busy. We had a major link to Apple Tons that the Provisioning clan THOUGHT they were supposed to move, but it turned out to be the wrong ones, so we had to tell the Bee Cees and Merry Ticks not to touch it. They were disappointed, they had thought they were going to have a magic feast on the old link's spell power.

Then we had Tellyou Group clan links going down and coming backk on all over the kingdom. I also had to put in a new *lightlink* gizmo for an impending link spell, but the older and weaker *lightlink* gizmo, well, they forgot to give me a *transpo* spell to Port it out. Also, they forgot to add enough megger byte chips to the new gizmo, so they are going to have to *transpo* some megger byte chips to me to put into the spell.

Off to the party!

Voices of wayward spirits I heard in my last vision quest:

Buckthorn and Black Walnut:

The trees sway in the evening breeze,
The low slanted rays of late Fall afternoon,
Touch the bark and grass and creek with Midwestern gold,
If there is a color that defines the American midwest,
It is a word not often used,
Tawny.

The lime stone so yellow and prevalent,
The soft yellow clay just a foot or two below black earth,
Trees with brown red and yellow Autumn leaves,
The golden yellow of the grasses and shrubs,
Their clinging seeds will follow you to new homes,
The brush of cat tails above a marsh,
Where brown ducks swim with the brilliant green headed Mallards,
And brown and black Canada geese oversee the flotilla,
And red, brown and yellow brick is the solid choice,
Where once the soft warmth of the gentle tipi held sway,
They looked for all the world like angel wings growing,
Straight up out of the incredibly tawny plains,
And meld into the ice and snow and gold grass tufts.

Some of the whites now listen to the land,
Have been born and bred of it's very bones,
To those who hear the spirits the land cries for healing,
For simplicity blended with their mechanical roots,
And slowly the spirit of the Tinkerer is joining,
With the spirit of Land,
They will one day walk under the gaze of Harmony,
And perhaps their children will grow strong,
Once fear and it's bastard child hatred,
Leaves the hearts of all the races of man,
Who were birthed in the tawny land.

I heard the spirits of Buckthorn and Black Walnut,
Of Pine and Cattail and Milkweed,
They danced a dance of future remembrance,
That some times I am just privileged enough to see,
The afternoon Sun whispered golden rays upon them,
The blue Sky brushed their reaching branches with a breeze,
As the Buckthorn pods fell dark brown to Earth,
Millions in deep dark reddish tawny brown,
And the children of Black Walnut fell to Earth rolling,
In the green pods that look like tennis balls.

Buckthorn took the hand of Black Walnut,
And their spirits walked back into the tawny past,
Future,
Past,
Future,
Past,
Tawny,
Sun.

Together.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/12/2002

Author's Comments:
I was struck by how much I identify this color with "home".
I was born in this land, and no matter where I've gone,
I always feel "home" when I see the tawny gold of grasses,
Coming up through the snow along the highway,
Or blowing in the cool fall breeze. This is the color of home.
I also hold a vision of technology embracing nature and the two
working together instead of in conflict. If it's ever going to happen,
it needs to be found here. I don't know why I believe that, but I do.

Spent the past half hour reading wayward magic scrolls and burning the ones from sneaky Seller Trolls trying to trick me into giving them some of my greenspells. Nothing much else to report at this time, other than the parchments made it to the LUF whizzyrds, but they haven't had time to respond yet, I think. The guy down in Tecksrocks can be a bit of a curmudgeon, but he is also quite realistic and seems well suited to deciding what is practical and what is "Shoot the Moon" magic. Practical magic is always the best. Of course, many *movie* spell watchers learned this a couple of years ago. More later.

*POOF*