Sunday, 25 September 2016

It's a Sign

A minor miracle occurred in my backyard during the week, well, I thought it was anyway. Add to what was an exceptionally wet winter after a very long dry spell, bursts of sunshine and more rain, a veritable forest of miniature fungi erupted in the lawn. What would normally appear in autumn turned up in the week of the spring equinox, not just scattered haphazardly here and there mind you, but following some pre-ordained pattern just for my delight. Have seen a few toadstool rings in my time, red capped holiday resorts for fairies, but this little phenomenon had me so fascinated I couldn’t help but wax lyrical.

It’s a sign, it’s a sign
of what I know not.
What does it mean
this number three?
Is it a puzzle
to tantalise me?

Three days to go
till my mind can see
three weeks, three months,
three years maybe
until this sign is revealed to me?

Far stranger things
than what I now see
have been hidden in grass
or shrub or tree
But I’m not always there
to witness these things
that sneak in unseen
on legs or wings.

So as my garden erupts
in a fungal invasion
I’m leaning towards
the fairy persuasion

Not just a village, but a great city block
has taken root, now you might mock.
But those little teeny weeny folk
who move around an awful lot
Holiday here and move on there
As a roof appears just out of nowhere.

They’re nomadic little creatures
Finding shelter where they can
following the seasons
but sometimes without reason
they turn up when least expected
Flitting here and scurrying there
And oh, I’m just delighted
I could sit for hours and stare.

So it’s a mystery
this number three.
What does it mean
what can it be?
A springtime anomaly
put here in my yard
to bamboozle me.
Will it grow or will it go?
I haven’t a clue
I really don’t know.

Do I intervene
or leave it to fate?
Or do I simply sit and wait
till it becomes
a number eight.

Have done a daily check to see how everyone was fairying, um, faring, but this morning, shock horror, all there was to show for this anomaly was a mass of fungi stalks, each and every one beheaded. As I pulled down the blind just before sunset last night I noticed a wallaby grazing in the backyard, nothing unusual about that, but with free range mushroom available a la carte he obviously couldn’t resist.

Darn it all, no more fairies at the bottom of the garden.