They were five strong huddled on the pier, asking Fly about his flight down. "So, if you don't have your pilot's license, then who flew the plane?" Amy asked overcome with curiosity. Sloshing out of the water and trailing a long rope was the most amazing robust woman, climbing onto the pier. "This is my sister, Gwendolyn." Fly hurried to help her secure the plane and hoist out their bags.
"The Gwitch'in people grow some beautiful... " JC started to say, but his voice trailed off as he stepped aside to let her pass. Silky black long hair and long, long legs, Fly's sister looked like he did, a strong family resemblance. "Nice to meet you all." she said in a honey voice that sounded like the first melting snow from the tundra.
"I brought a sitting para-sail and a bungee jumper for the seaplane. " Fly remarked as he drug out a few duffel bags from the back. " I also have some interesting chemicals for the 4th of July that you can't find legally for sale in the lower 48 states." Gwennie frowned at Fly momentarily, but knew it wasn't any use to protest. She'd said all that she had to say about that when they had packed.
Jc found Amy's hand and walked her over to the chaise lounge where they had been sitting closely together before they jumped up to greet Fly.
BJ was tugging at Gwennie's backpack offering to show her the rooms set aside for Fly.
Rosie and Reese hurried over to the warmth of the firepit, where Rosie was brewing a large cauldron of a generous amount of hot chocolate, sugar free. She slipped out an envelop from her satchel and tapped in about 20 grams of a white/variegated brown dust and flakes into the pot and stirred it briskly.
"I'm making Traum Tourismus". she announced to the crowd. "It is a mild hallucinogen that brings visions and spiritual awakenings especially among gatherings of close friends", she intoned as if in church delivering a sermon. "it should take about 20 minutes to kick in" She took a ladle and stirring though the bottom of the brew started to portion the liquid out.
"Who wants a cup?" JC raised his hand. Fly said, "I"m down with that. Is it Psilocybe cubensis?
"No," Rosie smiled., "It is Gymn------Gymnopilus luteoviridis , from Vermont." She stumbled over the botanical name.
Reese had already helped herself and was sniffing at her cup and starting to sip the chocolate. BJ came forward with an eager smile and held out her hand expectantly. Rosie had already discussed it with Reese and handed BJ a smaller portion.
Rosie continued. "And more importantly, Who will stay lucid and keep watch with me tonight. I will be a Watcher. I need one more volunteer.
" I will," said Gwennie. " I prefer to keep my feet on the ground tonight."
Amy? Rosie turned to her. Amy was thinking about it.
"OH what the heck," Amy looked at JC, who had downed his cup almost scalding his tongue. she came over and helped herself to a deep mug of the brew and sipped at it with her nose wrinkling up.
"Two rules for tonight. No one leaves this circle alone during their trip. And no one tries to go swimming in the lake. Are we agreed? "
Rosie pulled the pot off the firepit, set the ladle down and went over to the stereo and put on a CD she had set aside earlier from her satchel.
Plaintive Celtic Melodies filled the night sky and joined the whistling of the wind through the pine as the circle of friend gently talked and waited together in the night air.
They were Seven strong.
Blog Manifesto
Blog Manifesto
This blog is dedicated, as the title would suggest, to the qualities of being young. We are young writers. We are playful and sensitive, fluid and changing. We are unashamed with our art. We wonder at the world, puzzle over the meanings of things and twirl in delight at images and ideas that float by, grabbing at them as they pass. We are curious and constantly inquiring and prying concepts open and taking assumptions apart. We are on the ground, close to the earth. We have bare feet and wiggle our toes into nature. We carry our blankies still and wrap up cozy and comfy with each other and tell ghost stories and shiver at creepy things. We laugh and we cry and we take a lot of naps, drained from our outings and exertions.
We write as gifts to each other, tying them up in ribbon and leaving them around for each other to find, hiding and waiting for the person to wake up and read. Surprise! We weave our stories together to create a bond. One writes, then the other. then another again. We have a shared reality that we have crafted, bit by piece by patch, by string. We write simple, honest authentic things, with our unique voices. You can tell each one of us from the other, without knowing who wrote what. Our voices are clear and gentle and original. We whisper and our personalities roar! Like children, our feelings are strong, our passion for what we write shakes us. We are moved and sometimes left breathless, by our own words or the words of each other. We cannonball into each others spaces. We fall backward into each others writing, like into a pile of leaves or a soft bed. We gobble and grin and ask for more. (footnote kudos to JC)
Then we go to bed, wake up to a new day and do it all over again!
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