The forested north and east perimeters of the vineyard have always been something of a no mans’ land. Long ago a mass of thorny briars took root below the cliff and created a minefield of rusty barbed wire tangled up in the dumping ground of previous residents. It would take years to clear out the broken glass, tin cans, tires and tossed-out tools by dragging the detritus up the stone ridge, one bucket at a time.
Everyone knows that the inaccessible woods rising near the briars are a haven for owls, hawks, deer… But recently, someone began to suspect that the ancient oaks, stationed like sentinels along the ridge, are also home to another shy species. On this particular morning in Autumn they were chattering in the sunlit boughs – tiny, loquacious, sentient creatures native to this cliff, the Rocklings.
When Jeanne realized she could hear them, she stopped sulking, whistled for the dog and disappeared into the woods.
More on the Rocklings soon.
One thought on “Sentinels of Stone Ridge”
Ahh, when I saw the notice — a new posting @ latourbeille — I returned to the kitchen to prepare a cup of tea and open a treasured box of madeleines — just one, I thought — and sitting back down at the computer I was prepared to be transported. Hmm, rocklings, the briars, the dog, and Jenna . . . the setting for a novel. A winter’s work ahead!