Part III

loupininella awoke late in the evening.  this he new by the orange shafts streaking through the dust from the window-knot.  "my," he thought, "how long was i sleeping?  and where is humphrey with my honey tonic?"  he reached across his chest with his left arm and grasped the gnarled walking stick that his friend tersie had whittled for him, heaved all of his weight on the crook, and hoisted himself off of his heather bed that called to him "come back!" just as both feet were firmly planted on the floor; well as soon as one foot was firmly planted, anyway.  hobbling toward the beaded curtain that hung about the entrance or exit, depending upon its use at the time, loupininella almost succeeded in hurting the rest of his body after rolling around the archway on one foot, the bearing being a carrot stub.  "switch him!  and switch him good, that humphrey!", loupininella cursed. 

he held the walking stick in his large front teeth as he decended Ole Sappy, and of course, this was not difficult, even for an injured squirrel.  as he reached the bottom, he noticed a clamour of angry and frightened and woeful voices, coming from a circled crowd a few yards off.  he aproached a familiar leathery and flat tail, tattooed intricately with three sloping logs.  "tersie!" loupininella cried.  "what in all that's green is going on?"  tersie paused, looked at the crowd, then to the center, and then back at loupininella, giving her whiskers such a shake that would certainly dishearten the happiest of the forest creatures.  loupininella looked toward the center and saw the fox-fire fern, sad and wilted, crying almost as the crowd projected the very thing that would eventually kill it.  "what has happened?  is he back?  and where is humphrey with my honey tonic?"  tersie's tail gave a thump of frustration as the sparatic and deprioritized questions pelted her in the nape of her already troubled mind.  "mind you, mind you!"  tersie exclaimed.  "this is bad, very bad!  do you not understand?  might you if i took back that stick and applied it to your tiny skull rather than the underside of your arm!  i will answer your first two questions first.  the answer to both is yes, he is back.  and your humphrey has left.  by way of a little bird, i have learned that he has gone to find bestar!"  loupininella gave a start.  "bestar, but, well, but it is that time, will he not be..."  "in danger, yes!" tersie finished. 

"...and that is what i propose..." was the last thing loupininella heard as he stumbled and hopped toward lilly-thicket.  "what is findley proposing this time?" loupininella wondered, already tiring of findley's shining eyes in that black mask, bearing sharp teeth as he dramatically stated his hasty, ill-concieved plans.

the sun had now set below the canopy of Shaded Hamlet, creating a pleasent purple-lavendar glow about everything except Shimmertop Pond, which retained its silver splendor no matter what the surrounding enviornment exuded.  loupininella quickened his pace, or hobble rather, as he new that once true night fell, there would be no chance of navigating through lilly-thicket; at least not in his condition.  "granite-bell will know what to do, i know he will.  besides, i can get my honey tonic there, as well."

as loupininella made his way through the worst and most deceptive portion of lilly-thicket (lilly-thicket is known for soggy patches of ground that are inhabited by ginger beetles, a devlish bug that tears off patches of fur before eating plugs of warm flesh, and these patches are virtually undetectable to the animal eye, save the remote jiggle of the surface) as the sun and all traces of his light dissapeared.  the moon was not out, she had followed bestar to assist in his mating.  loupininella reached into his woven waist-pocket and pulled out a pecuiliarly small acorn.  he knocked it twice on the ground and it emmited a faint but warm glow. 

there it was, the hill where granite-bell lived.  loupininella stood at the foot of the base entrance and waited.  one never knocked or called or chirpped or chattered at granite-bell's door.  granite-bell knew already that he was to be paid a visit.

Part II

The problem with the foxfire fern resides in its innability to survive in emotionally traumatic enviornments, brought about by certain situations that all manners of woodland creatures find themselves in on a fairly regular basis.  it is for this reason that the forest's smaller inhabitants tend to build there communities centered on the visibility of indiginous foxfire ferns; for those uprooted and replanted tend to loose their, what seems to be a genetically encoded paranoid empathy.

it is also said of the foxfire fern that its seeds have a certain potency used in bringing on mating seasons up to seven times in one year.  there have been no conclusive studies to prove this, though it is commonly believed amongst the more studious creatures, such as the owl and turtle, that the frequency of the mating seasons occuring is the result of the absolute danger the male must face in order to procure these seeds, and the female, sensing that she might not have the opportunity to mate with her companion much longer seizes the few times she has for certain, thus the mating season happens at least two to three times for every attempt made.  for the foxfire fern has such defensive quailities while it is seeding, that through such chemical and biological phenomonon, the foxfire seedpod is able to explode, secreting liquids that ignite upon contact with any form of epidermal coverings.

.    .    .    .    .

humphrey new well the situation of pierre offensmooch, and believed, along with the rest of the inhabitants of Shaded Hamlet that pierre would never return. 

he had been warned numerous times; the warnings were not heeded.  so then, after it happened, he was not so much banished, but left.  the thoughts of everyone seemed to be in one accord: it is tragic, but he must go.  for pierre had commited the one crime that others would forgive, but the woods herself could not.  he had accepted, or rather been accepting gifts from those who change their furs and walk up-right all of the time.  this was the first attrocity.  he was warned.  but soon later, he had done the unthinkable:  pierre offensmooch had allowed one of them to accompany him to Shimmertop Pond, the heart of Shaded Hamlet, the source of life for the foxfire fern.

but why now?  why had he returned?  was there anyone or (hard swallowing) anything with him?  all of these questions raced through humphrey's mind.  poor lopininella would have to wait for his honey tonic.  humphrey new that he must go and find and return with bestar, the Hamlet's protector.  this was to be an arduous task, for this was mating season for bestar's kind, and anyone less than the size of a small boulder that laid one claw, foot, or paw on this sacred ground, especially in this season, was to be devoured, certainly.  humphrey retained a respectful fear, but knew that he could survive, for he had been there once before.  but that was a long time ago, and she...violently he shook away the wistful nostalgia and laid back his ears.  he was to depart immediately.

Part I

one time a rabbit named humphrey left his home on the fifth branch to the left of the pine-knot in Ole Sappy.  the reason humphrey lived there was his best friend, a squirrel named loupiniella, had hurt his tail-bone tumbling down humphrey's old hole.  it was carrot stubs, the ends of carrots with the stem and leaves still atatched.  humphrey always left them lying in the entrance to the hole, and now poor loupiniella had paid the price.  humphrey, while being rather messy, was still  a very good friend, so he faced his utter dislike of any height taller than a cow-lick mound, and moved in Ole Sappy to take care of his beloved loupiniella.

now getting up and down Ole Sappy was a task.  when the good lord first made humphrey's ancestors, he did not plan on any of them or thier decendents living in trees, particularly on the fifth branch up, to the left of the pine-knot in Ole Sappy.  so humphrey slipped his lucky rabbit's foot, his right front (every rabbit's lucky foot) into the loop of a rope woven by nursey, the motherly spider that lived down the way.  he decended down the trunk, lifting an old tortise shell full of dirt, roughly his weight, up the other side of Ole Sappy.  upon reaching the bottom, humphrey noticed that the foxfire fern was starting to wilt.  this could only mean one thing:  pierre offensmoocher had returned.

more later, i promise.

it seems that some people think that i am gloomy; well, one person does anyway.  i will not mention her name, but lets just say that if i could drive a car so cheerfull as a bright, cherry-red vw then my diposition might turn sunny side up.

but i am happy.  i am cheerful.  because of video rentals and cable television and fast food and sub culture music scenes and converse all stars and mini buttons on girl jeans that are too tight and ipods and xanga i do not notice the world around me.  i am to damn happy to see the natural world brown and decay as does the artifical world that was built atop of it.  i do not notice disasters or wars or genocide or the poor neglected while the church votes in republicans to assist in the neglection.  i do not noticed chemical runnoff in farmside irrigation ditches that kills minnows and turtles and cranes.

thank goodness i do not notice, for if i did, i might be gloomy indeed.

smile, for you are the monky riding the back of a greyhound that is the world; the track is the span of life, the automated bone is the dollar.  the spectators may be the voices in your head, if  you are fortunate.

well, it is autumn.  i do not like it.  everyone says "isn't it peaceful!" or "everything is so beautiful!", all exclamations that are heard from terminal cases lying in their beds, waiting for the inevitable.  everything is nice before destruction, life is always beautiful standing in the shadow of death. 

we have autumn, for the goddess of the seasons and growing things is demeter, and she had but a single daughter, persephone.  one day, persephone was picking wild flowers (it was ok, her mother was god) and the lonely and socially inept hades came thundering up from the ground in his black chariot with black horses, provided for him by his brother poisiden.  he took persephone to live with him in the underworld.  she was not to eat anything while she was there, but she did: six pomegranet seeds, given her be a little dead boy.  so, zeus ruled that she was to stay there six months out of the year.  in this time, demeter weeps, and nothing grows.

i weep with her, my love, my summer.