Friends

You go through life like the ol' circus artist, yeah, you know, the one with the chinese plates spinning on rods trying to keep them all spinning steadily, so no-one will fall. You try the best you can, but in the end, there is always one or two that fall.

You follow the rules of the game, those writen by education, manners, the way people around you are. In the end, who decides? Like the moral dilema goes, who watches the watcher? Who guards the guardian

So every now and then, the line dividing I want from I can from I should is slightly blurred and not knowing eactly how (or knowing but thinking "it's only a couple of steps") you end up hundreds of steps from these limits. And there are magical things out there. Good, bad, dangerous, innocent, interesting, boring, everything.

But the sheppard is always ready to send the dog to bring you back to the pen. And you return, of course, with your tail between your legs.

How did I stray this far? Whatever was I thinking about?

So once back in, you try to compensate (lets follow with the metaphore) being the best sheep you can, give the best wool, to bleat as musically as possible, walk without tripping over.

And one day you discover your wool is no better than the rest, your bleating cannot be heard in the crowd. Not only that but, who wants to be in a senseless useless pen? And then the sheep beside you bites you.

Bah! To hell with this! (More fool me - Genesis)

But of course, when you abandon this almost obsessive dedication you realise that you've neglected your surroundings. Yes, this free world where rules are different... stil has some rules, of course. The magic, the demons, the fairies, the witches, friends have followed down their own paths, of course.

Some of those people you had so close felt the coldness of abandonement and also some unexpected sudden storms which came at the worst time. And when people get cold they shroud themselves. Also these shrouds serve as shields.

So you walk down the forest, calling out left and right to see if there is anyone left.

The eco is nice...

But much nicer is the almost forgotten song of a precious bird who has the comfidence to sit on your shoulder again. And what's this? Well! A brand new anonimous Edelweiss in the snow. And I look to one side and what I thought was only a shadow is actually a companion walking by my side who I never noticed was always there. And at the other side another shadow? No. Another walking companion.

No! Not one, two, three... But how many are out there! My word!

This enchanted forest is full of people!

You know... I think winter is almost over. There is much less snow now and the sun actually gives off some heat.


Thank you, merci beaucoup, Gracias, danke... for making me see the magic has not vanished.

"... And so the sheep and men
as sheep remain inside their pen
though many times
they've seen the way to leave..."
The Lamb lies down - Genesis

... I think I'll never go back to a pen. The forest is so much prettier. Dangerous, yes, but precious.