Burdened with troubling thoughts, I watch the shadow puppets — made from the wind rattling leaves above — weave their tale of light and shadows upon the earth below.
I sense quiet movement around me. Looking up, I see a group of Brownies and Brees, both women and men. Their small hands are outstretched, palms outward toward me. These small folk are singing so softly that I can barely hear them, their song softly weaving with the wind.
“What are you doing? I ask.
“Singing your worries out of you, and casting them upon the wind, so they will be carried far away.”
“Won’t someone else get them?” I ask, a bit worried that my troubled thoughts will end up wrapping themselves around someone else’s head.
The Brownie man laughs, “No, lad, no need to fret about that. All that will be left of your thoughts will be the sound of the wind blowing through the trees and across the fields.”
“Should we continue?” asks a Bree woman. I nod my head, feeling their peace flow over me. Listening to their song, I look up and see the wind chasing clouds across the sky, like waves rolling over a sky sea of bright blue.