Well, dear reader, I’m feeling a bit stuck. I finished the remedy for Dorothy, and I like how it came out, but when I took it to her… sweet Dorothy, she told me it was delightful and that I had done a good job, but something was missing. Missing? I asked her if she knew what it might be, but she said she couldn’t put it into words. Goodness, I’ve never had anything like this happen before! Of course, I’ll keep working on it for her; I want to get it just right, but I’m uncertain of what I can do to fix it.
I suppose it doesn’t help that my mind is elsewhere. Continually I find my thoughts roaming to the Well of the Green Sister and to what secrets might be awaiting there. When I saw Lorenz and Alexander in the village last week, we all seemed to be in a similar state. Oh, if only it were closer! I suppose we shall have to be patient for a few more weeks.
The days have had their diversions. The forest has traded out its usual cloak of green for patches of red, orange, and yellow, and I never tire of watching Flame playfully chase the old moths that flutter above the dry grass. Evening walks are always a peaceful retreat from the chores of the day, and would you believe it, I’ve even begun to make friends with the crows.
Almost every day, a few of them come and sit in the tree near my cottage to watch for when I put the nuts on the windowsill. Oh, they’re funny birds. They fly down upon the wind with such skill, but once they’ve landed, well, they’re rather awkward, flapping their wings and bobbing their heads as they shuffle about on their thin, little legs. Their feet make a silly tap-tap sound when they walk on the wood too. It makes me laugh, and they seem to laugh back with their caws. While they’re snacking, I get to study the finer points of their appearance. Some have bluish eyes —I think these are the younger ones— and the rest have a nut-brown hue. Their feathers, naturally, are black but sometimes in just the right light they look indigo or emerald and other deep colors of midnight. I want to begin speaking to the crows whenever I see them, and maybe in time I can teach them to say a word or two, like Dorothy described. And I was so happy the other day; one brought me a copper coin, so now I’ve begun my own little collection of crow-found treasures.
I wish the crows would bring me whatever it is I’m missing from this remedy, but I know even very clever birds do have their limitations. Auntie Ember might have some ideas, but I wonder if there’s enough time for our letters to go back and forth before the end of fall. No, I think I shall have to sort this one out on my own… well, perhaps not all on my own. The forest has often been a good teacher to me, maybe it will help me once again.