I whispered to the Oak. It whispered back.

"It's going to be beautiful this year," it said. A light breeze played through its leaves, and it shivered in delight.

"I'll wait for you," it said to me.

I awoke with my back to the oak trunk; a crow eating part of my lunch which I had left out when I fell asleep.

The crow looked at me suspiciously and hopped back. I slowly pushed the paper with my lunch toward where it was standing, then pulled my hand back. It cocked its head and hopped back on the paper. I poured some water into my cup and held it out. The crow hopped closer and drank, then jumped back to the food. I left the cup where the crow could reach it and took a drink from the bottle.

It's the beginning of rebirth at Paramount. The new rain has erased several years of drought and green grasses are springing forth.

We'll be gathering soon. If the format is the same as usual we'll be meeting for lunch in WItches Wood, then gathering at the top of the hill for our memorial, a toast to absent friends, in the afternoon.

As per usual musical and magical things are welcome, as are all of you and whomever you might want to bring along. Non faire folk welcome, of course.

Bring food for yourself, for others if you've a mind to, and bring water. Alcohol is tolerated by the park service but drunkenness is not. No smoking of anything is allowed, and remember that it is Federal ground and patrolled by park rangers. They have no sense of humor about fire, or drugs.

Stay tuned - more info when it's available.

I'm going to stay out here with the crow for a while longer . . .

Until we meet again I am, and remain, with you in the journey.

Marc