Fairy stools or toad stools, every stool forms a stool for some fool. These popped up overnight after a few days of rain in the backyard – I’m still waiting on a fairy’s ring to appear, though I’ve heard mixed folklore about whether that’s good luck or bad luck or just imminent danger. I probably don’t want to find out – it’s like tempting the dark spirits for no reason other than causing problems for your own self. Some of us have wreaked enough havoc and caused enough mischief in the world – why tempt more to descend on an otherwise-thus-far-peaceful season? There will be drama enough with whatever next awful realities life has in store for us – absolutely no need to demand or create the conditions for more.
Instead, I’ll imagine these are sitting stools for the most minute of woodland creatures – fairies or frogs or miniature figures that go bump and burp in the night. When I was a kid, I lived mostly in my imagination, and I never got hurt or destroyed in that space… unless I wanted it. Because my pathology was such that, yes, sometimes I very much did want it. Why would I invite more darkness when so much of my heart was already in shadow?
