My last memory from Black Point
Last night of "faire" at Black Point
It was all gone. There was nothing left of
the once thriving community we knew as Northern
Faire. Gone were the Red Barn, front gate, ale
stands and stages. No booths, no hooches and no
gardens. Nothing. Just oaks bay laurel and
strangely enough, stacks of hay bales scattered
throughout the site.
It was on one of those many stacks, under the
ancient oak in front of Piroski’s, that I sat
with my beautiful faire friend reminiscing about
the magical aura of the place and the eclectic
mix of personalities that infused it with their
own magic over the years. After sunset we laid
back on the hay to tell more stories and watch
the full moon rise through the oaks.
At one point, we both noticed the stark
silence and looked around at the grey empty
spaces.
It was a sad sight, and yet, I felt no
sadness for what was gone. We all knew it was
coming. For years we suffered the annual talk of
the “last faire” only to return again the next
season. Hell, down south we danced to that tune
for near a decade before the site was moved.
Nope, no sadness, only hopefulness that the next
adventure would be just as rewarding and that
friends would stay friends, come what may.
We drank a toast to the past, smoked to the
future and decided that it was high time to
frolic about as if it were the last chance we
had for such pleasures. And frolic we did. What
started as sweetly playful frolicking soon
became seriously hot and moist frolicking that
slowly worked up to a full fledged faire…..
frolic. We crashed to and fro in a seething
tangle of sweat soaked flesh with such utter
abandon even the trees seemed to sway and
tremble with our every move. When at last we
came, it was as if all the orgasms either of us
had ever had came rushing up through us in an
electric storm of ecstasy that raged on and on.
Think “Highlander”, when he became the one, and
you’ll know what I mean.
After our slow descent back to mortality,
with ragged throats and ravaged bodies, we lay
bathing in moonlight and rested.
Something was different. The world had
changed somehow. There was sound, a lot of sound
and it wasn’t us. An owl hooted. Then, several
owls hooted. We sat up together to see what was
going on and were astounded at what lay before
us.
The animals had come out to play. All of
them. There were mice meandering, pairs of
squirrels bounding about and rabbits running a
relay around what used to be ale one. There was
a parade of skunks looking much like puritans,
foxes lounged about without a care and raptors
played in the air. Whole families of deer
picnicked, fawns played and yearlings paired up
to wander off on their own.
It was truly amazing seeing all these
different kinds of animals in one place, doing
exactly as we had done for so long, mingling.
The more we watched, the more we noticed and the
whole time more critters were coming down
through the oaks on either side. They were
having their own faire right there in the
moonlit meadow that was once the serpentine. I
feel blessed to have seen it happen and more so
to share it with you.
Enjoy, Adam the Juggler
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