We’re entering the season of Bright and specifically the month of Bloommeadow, “when all the flowers bloom and pollen fills the air”. As we make our way down the road, we find time to relax, sunny skies, and the occasional soggy day. Along the roadside, deep purple & blue flowers bloom. Waves of pollen bring some misery in the form of allergies, although life as well. Early in the mornings, I hear the distant sounds of birds laughing and playing. For now, I am keeping to myself and my own thoughts on the road.
What is this new place? I want it to be Comfortable, so
d6 => 6, Workshop. And my spirit needs a Verdant place, so
d6 => 5, Lagoon. Finally, we expect the unexpected, so rolling
d4 => 4 we will find something strange! In that set of natures, we roll
d3 => 1, Sprawling, and we’ll complete the choice with
d6 => 4, Metropolis.
This isn’t just a town, but a diverse set of communities co-existing as neighbors.
My enclave includes a community of skunks. I’m not certain whether they’ll really consider me part of their community, as I have always lived elsewhere among other folks, but they do. We’re all a little different; my stripe isn’t so prominent, so sometimes I have felt weird about it. But basically nobody minds.
This metropolis is scatted among a small chain of little ponds and waterways. The communities have preserved a few to ensure that they remain available for all folks and relatively undeveloped (albeit well-cared for). I go to them for a while just to hear the quiet lapping of water and to see iridescent dragonflies buzzing around.
I’ve heard about some community loom working on a sort of universal tapestry, so I head over to see it. Everyone brings their own threads, and the spiders charged with the care of the place help folks weave in their own stories. Maybe I’ll participate before I leave.
Darting among the people here is a little hummingbird, barely old enough to fly. I tell him that he looks familiar.
Lillabit pauses when I say that. For a moment, I think that I know his parents, but maybe not. Instead, I spend a token (leaving me with just two) to keep him safe from the immediate difficulties. This little bird is lost! Somehow he managed to fly off from his family, getting distracted by the loom.
When I ask him where he was last together with them, he can’t remember. “Up there,” he says, and points to the sky. An old crow hears us and takes wing; surely Lillabit’s family will be searching for him!
Meanwhile I reach into my pack and find a few flower cups. Scooping out a bit of water, I let him refresh himself.
After a bit, the crow returns with Lillabit’s family. They were clear on the other side of this lagoon, losing their minds in frantic worry! What if he’d fallen into the water? But he’s fine, we’re all fine, and they invite the crow and me to join them for a meal later. Maybe we’ll catch them at home on a soggy day.
I want to explore the tapestry and my own contributions a bit more. Plus the invitation to a family meal could do me a bit of good…