deza: (Firefly singalong)
Going out to get the kids was distinctly... odd.

There are a number of little fae-critters scampering through the fog. I nearly hit a fox that had a pair of brownies riding on it. Don't get me started on the bigger critters. Red-eared white dogs have been driving Guinness up a wall for hours. They stand outside the door and just stare at him. He hates it.

The boggart was waiting for us when we got home. He made his offer again. I'm actually debating it. If he sticks with tradition, he'll ask me one more time today.

What would you do? Stay in this world, where you know what to expect, or cross over to see what's on the far side? Do you take the leap into the unknown adventure, or do you play it safe and stay with the familiar?
Do you stay in the mundane world, trying to eke out enough to survive?
Do you go overe, unsure of what's on the other side, not knowing how--or if--you'll live?
There are no guarantees, not even one of being able to come back to the world you know.

How far down the rabbit hole do you choose to go?

It's Rabbit Hole Day!
deza: (Firefly singalong)
The boggart (you were right, CV, and he took exception to being called a leprechaun) knocked on my door a few minutes ago.

He made an offer.

I told him I'd have to think about it.

It's Rabbit Hole Day!
deza: (Firefly singalong)
There is a leprechaun in my back yard.

Let me repeat that.

There is a leprechaun in my back yard!

It's still foggy out. The hawk's flown away. And there is a tiny little redheaded man in green clothes standing on the hill, staring at my house. Tiny, like three apples high tiny.

Color me freaked out.

It's Rabbit Hole Day!
deza: (Firefly singalong)
It's so foggy today. I can still see the hawk, though, up in the poplar tree.

Fog makes my eyes play tricks on me. I keep seeing things out of the corner of my eye. I'm matrixing things around the house into half-seen figures.

There are so many stories of foggy days being cross-over days, times when the worlds were extra close to each other. Times when magic, creatures, people can cross from one reality to the next. It's a dangerous time to walk through an archway formed by overhanging tree branches or cross a bridge without seeing the other side.

"They've come," the hawk said, when I took Guinness out a little while ago.

It's Rabbit Hole Day!
deza: (Firefly singalong)
I went for a walk last night. Right out my back door is a hill crowned with trees--the few survivors of when the bulldozers came through to create this subdivision. There's a hawk that nests in the poplar tree. The hill isn't very high, and the neighborhood doesn't give off much light pollution so you can get a pretty good view of the stars. It was a little cloudy last night, but I could still see the Dipper, Orion and a few other constellations.

So I was walking under the trees when I heard the hawk call above me. Hawks don't normally call after dark. I looked up, and it was sitting on a branch just above my head, wings mantled, watching me. Naturally, I stopped to see what it would do.

"They're coming," the hawk said.

Well. That was bizarre. I'd like to say hat I stayed cool and had a nice conversation with the bird, but I didn't. I screamed like a little girl and ran inside. Do you blame me?

It's Rabbit Hole Day!
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