Fairies come in the light of the moon to visit us here at Little Beaver Creek. They wear caps made from the bloom on the white lilac and dance in fairy rings. Their laughter tinkles like bells and goes splashing along the creek.
They are calling to the unicorns to come and play. Now cavorting about with fairies makes the unicorns tired, and hungry. The unicorns sip silvery water droplets as they splash up from the creek rocks and much daintily on the wild violets that are scattered like amethyst tears throughout the clover and grass.
The Redbud stands sentinel all along the ridges and paths, keeping safe the mountain sprites as they lead the delicate beauty of Spring through the mountains and valleys.
Hey, if millions of us can believe that for the price of a loaf of bread we can instantly have all of our cares and woes vanish, replaced by millions of dollars, then I can believe in fairies and unicorns and mountain sprites. I think the fairies already know how to makes those cares and woes vanish, carried away on the back of the unicorn as the mountain sprites dance alongside.
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