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.