The Sunbather

Oleaginous (Part 6)

A small swirl of oil in the lake behind my office. 

Lady of the Lakes Renaissance Faire 2018

This year, through my involvement with fencing, I was able to volunteer for the Lady of the Lakes Renaissance Faire. The Society for Creative Anachronism held a special area within the Renaissance Faire where nothing was for sale and members showcased historical crafts and skills. It was purely educational and wonderfully entertaining! 

It was a very different experience than the previous year I had gone to the Lady of the Lakes Renaissance Faire. Last year I had gone by myself and as a guest, wearing my typical shorts and flip flops, and merely observing. I had a great time that year, but it was nothing compared to the immersive joy I experienced this time. 

Because I had been fencing for almost a year I already knew a lot people in the SCA, but I also met several new people who became quick friends. My responsibilities were to dive in, learn as much as I wanted, and represent the culture. Originally, I only signed up to volunteer one day, but I fell hard and ended up going all four days. 

Photo by Jake Tessler

Part of being involved in the SCA is picking a persona and dressing the part. I’m still putting mine together but thankfully our event cordinator, Thyri (Melissa), had this lovely black dress for me to borrow. 

Drust (Steve) and Teric (Theo) competing in heavy combat. 

Ryan, who is in our fencing group, was also part of the court at Lady of the Lakes as Don Giovanni de’Medici.  

Into the larger part of the faire this little boy was excited to meet the dragon. 

Toki (Joe), a master bowman, explaining how to use a crossbow. 

Lord David (Pops) overseeing a match between Scott and one of the younger heavy fighters.

I got to start to learn about shoe making from Corbin (Dearan) and how to make a bow string from Toki (Joe). 

Heavy fighters Hywel (Ian) and James (Seth).

Thyri (Melissa) working with dyed fabric.

Ástríòr (Sarah) making glass beads.

Photo by Sarah Canatsey

Ástríòr (Sarah) was kind enough to teach me how to make my own glass bead. 

After a few failed attempts I was able to get this adorable red bead.

Some of the beautiful examples of glass beads. Most of these were made by Thyri (Melissa). 

Lady Arabella (Wendy) and Don Giovanni (Ryan). 

Photo by Unknown

My meeting with the royal court: Don Giovanni (Ryan), myself, Lady Arabella (Wendy), and William Seymour (Cary). 

Thyri (Melissa) teaching children how to make rings. 

Last year I met Josh at his fencing station. I decided to give it a shot this year instead of just watching. Besides, I was a fencer now so I figured I stand a pretty good chance. Turns out, Josh is a pretty formidable opponent. We went two rounds and each won once. 

I also got to see the same cat from last year sporting a new, shiny pair of wings.

His name is Flynn the Wonder Beast and he gets to travel all over the world with his owners. 

Ending the day with a medieval joust.

The second weekend of the faire started out with a lesson in pewter casting with Kylan (Keith)

I spent a lot of time in the kitchen learning from these two talented ladies.

Adelheid (Cyndi) and Meghan. 

They made a delicious chicken and vegetable soup for the SCA members, prepared traditionally in a cast iron pot.

Scott and fairgoer Naju (Juan) in full armour.

Lovely Saturday sunset over the faire.

Charles Howard (Ronne) and William (Jeremy).

Adelheid (Cyndi) browning apples for the apple pie.

Fellow fencer Lee with his girlfriend Sally.

Lord David (Pops).

Johan (John), Vivienne (Erica), and Faelynn.

Photo by Sally Harper

On Sunday we were able to get a picture with all the fighters. From left to right: Lee, David, Hywel (Ian), Giovanni (Ryan), myself, and Johan (John) in front.

Thyri (Melissa) in her beautifully embroidered garb.

Johan (John) and Lee fencing.

Lord David (Pops), Jean (Bear), James (Seth), and Hywel (Ian).

Ástríòr (Sarah) in her lovely red dress.

James (Jake).

Adelheid (Cyndi) proudly presenting one of her delicious pies.

Corbin (Dearan).

Adelheid (Cyndi) serving up the apple pie.

My serving of pie complete with clotted cream and custard.

Corbin (Dearan) receiving an award from James (Jake) and Ástríòr (Sarah) for his expert craftsmanship in shoe making. 

The Forge.

Josh patiently waiting for this little girl to pop the ballon.

Got to challege him to one more match, which he won.

Renewed

The Greeter

The Crow’s Soul Weighs Heavy

Growing up I had my favorite yard birds. The cardinal and the blue jay were obvious favorites because of their bright colors, but the crow was appreciated for reasons that were different and far more profound. 

The backyard of our first house was large and square-shaped. Several old trees peppered the back yards throughout the neighborhood. I loved playing outside. At a very young age I caught a small black racer with my bare hands, fed peanuts to the squirrels, and learned how to trap and release frogs. My father always had a few bird feeders overflowing with seeds and took it upon himself to feed the local stray cats. The yard was always buzzing with activity. 

One day when I was about six years old I was standing in the dining room when my father came in from the back yard. The heavy wooden door creaked as he pushed through. Annoyed but not surprised he said “One of the cats caught a crow” as he walked past me.  

Curious, I ventured outside. 

I never saw the cat or the crow she caught, but I was taken aback by what I heard. 

A chorus of crows, all coming from the same tree. Loud and panicky, yet unmistakably focused. The sun was low in the afternoon sky behind the tree. Beams of light poking through the leaves illuminated the silhouettes of fluttering wings and open beaks. I had never seen so many crows in one tree. I had never heard such collective chaos. I was used to the typical calls of crows, but this was entirely different. 

“They’re saying goodbye” I whispered to myself in astonishment.

I stood there for several minutes, watching, listening. Right on the edge of the concrete slab; I never crossed into the grass. As intrigued as I was moving in to get a closer look felt like intrusion. This was a ritual. 

They were experiencing sorrow.

They understood what they had lost. 

They gathered to mourn the dead. 

Young as I was, I knew about death. A short time prior to this my mother’s dog got hit by a car. Patches was older and had been a part of the family long before I was born. My parents had friends over and it was dark out when they left. We were all in the driveway and everyone was exchanging small talk when patches got out and ran into the street. A young man driving by hit her. I remember the commotion as everyone rushed down to the street. The young man felt terrible. He said he didn’t see her until it was too late and apologized. My parents held no grudge. They knew she was old and it was dark out. They moved her up the driveway closer to the house. 

She was completely still. A small trickle of blood was slowly moving from behind her head. My mother, crying, knelt down beside her gently petting the soft, curly fur around her shoulder. She was already gone, but my mother still wanted to say goodbye. 

I had watched my mother perform the ritual of letting go. I could recognize it when I saw the crows do it. What I found so compelling about the crows was that it was the first time I witnessed a group of animals expressing grief. 

Growing up Catholic I was often confronted with people who claimed that animals didn’t have souls. When I was younger I didn’t know what to say so I would just nod politely. But I never believed that. Even if I couldn’t define it I knew something was there. Something bigger. Something magic and profound. The crows could feel it too.