The other day, on the way to the mailbox, I swore I heard a leprechaun.
A steady tip, tip, tap, tapping noise came from the base of nearby tree not too far off in the roadside woods. We’re a ways away from rainbow season so I thought I was really in luck. There might just be a pot of gold tucked away in the undergrowth.
For those who might not realize, leprechauns aren’t actually in the sugar-coated, marshmallow-studded breakfast cereal business. They’re cobblers by nature. When I heard that tapping noise, I assumed it was a leprechaun working away on the sole of a shoe or a shoelace rivet. (Random trivia: leprechauns only make single shoes, never a pair.) The thing about leprechauns is, they’re not very generous. You’ve got to sneak up on them, maybe grab them by the coattails, and trick them into telling you where they’ve hidden their gold.
I bent down stealthily and peered into the shadowy woods. Nothing. Then I spied a big ol’ pileated woodpecker, tapping away at the base of a balsam tree. So close, yet so far.
Spring must be coming because it seems the sprites and faeries have been burrowing out of their deep winter hiding places lately.
On Monday morning, I noticed a peculiar object out on the lake near the shore. It looked just like an overturned flower pot. There were tracks behind the object, as though it had walked out to its resting spot. But that’s just crazy, I thought.
Two hours later, I glanced out the window and did a double take. The object, which was now clearly a flowerpot, had taken a right turn in its progress across the lake. It literally looked as though the pot had either a mind of its own or a small inhabitant. I could just imagine a little mouse, or maybe even a gnome, holding the flowerpot over its head and heading off into the great yonder, setting its overhead shelter down whenever it needed a nap.
Andy pointed at the path behind the flowerpot. The path was constructed of small circles overlapping big circles in a chain pattern.
“You can clearly see that the wind flipped the flowerpot over itself across the snow there,” he said.
But it was so much more exciting to think of little magical creatures run about on their tippy-toes on top of the snow, getting into who knows what sort of shenanigans.
Does this sound like cabin fever? Anyone? Anyone? Have you noticed any peculiar goings-on in your neck of the woods?