FACT: Gnomes can detect the slightest variations in even the most commonplace meal

                With a flick of his wrist, the curved blade made short work of the dandelion stalk. With his free hand Aubrey held the blossom upright. Quickly, he sheathed the blade and lowered the stalk to the ground. Immediately he began stripping the dandelion of the leaves which would be later used for teas and a variety of medicinal uses. His calloused hands had long since lost their sensitivity to the plant’s irritating outer skin. When he finished, he laid the prepared stalk beside all the others waiting for the runners.

                Aubrey stood up, arching his back and stretching the weary, day-sore muscles. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and looked out over the field filled with twenty to thirty fellow laborers. He watched them perform the near mechanical motions of the harvest. He saw the inexperienced routines of the young and the practiced patterns of the old. Looking deeper, he saw the boundless enthusiasm of youth. He smiled remembering the energy and escapades of his own childhood. He lingered in the mist of memory and saw the promise and potential in his young life. Looking too, he saw the cynical resignation of the older gnomes whose backs and bones were broken long ago by the rigors of life. He felt pity but he also could not shake the sympathy which grew from his own struggles.

FACT: Gnomes have twice as many taste buds as humans

                As the weeks became months, Aubrey found he gave little conscious thought to Adrianna but hovering always in the background was a tiny, feathered shadow that lingered like a phantom. He found some consolation in his work where he relished in the monotonous, repetitive tasks which seemed to infuriate many others. He also reconnected with Anselm after their spat, though he never broached the subject of Adrianna again. Anselm, for his part, was content to pretend that the entire situation never happened. He was a simple gnome whose mind usually went no deeper than the plants in front of him, the sun above him, and the dinner in his belly. Aubrey knew all this and let his friend forget the past. In fact, Aubrey took some comfort in his friends’ contentment. Try as he might though, he was unable to live off of the simple pleasures which occupied Anselm. Something deep down stirred within Aubrey. Something that went deeper than the mysterious and beautiful owl which had graced his life. His heart harbored a flickering spark; something with the potential to spring to life given the right conditions.

FACT: The darkest part of night is the waiting

                Time passed slowly for Aubrey. The image of Adrianna disappearing into the darkness refused to fade from his mind. He tried his best to go back to his daily routine, which in the past, had brought him so much comfort. He returned home at the same time every day. He prepared the same meals he had always eaten (usually with a few dandelion stalks on the side). He drank the same tea. He even went to bed at the same time after reading his favorite novels. Yet, in the darkness of his room, deep underground, sleep evaded him. Despite his warm comfy bed and his feather-stuffed pillow, he always felt the very un-gnomelike urge to climb out of hole and stare out at the darkened sky. More than once he found himself unconsciously climbing the long passageway to the surface. Each time he had to force himself back to bed and will his eyes shut. And more than once he awoke in the morning with fleeting dreams of a midnight sky and heard the flutter of wings amid the night chorus.

                Slowly the days turned into weeks; the weeks into months…

FACT: It is folly to fear the night

“Don’t say that. He was a jerk.”

“No he’s right, at least partly,” she said raising her head to face Aubrey. “Regardless of how we view ourselves, we owls have a responsibility to all the other races. You understand. You gnomes view us as gods. What if one day you found out that your god wasn’t special, wasn’t any better than you? It would tear apart your society. I don’t regret meeting you Aubrey, I truly don’t. But my reasons in doing it were selfish and indulgent.”

“You’re saying what he’d like you to say.”

“No. I have a responsibility to my own people. Just as you have a responsibility to your own people.”

“I have a responsibility to what? To lie and pretend like none of this ever happened?”

“It might be best.”

“I can’t do that. You know I can’t do that.”

She remained silent and instead turned to face the blackness of the night. Aubrey once again found his questions unanswered. After everything that had happened over the last month, how could he ever go back to normal? He couldn’t simply ignore all that had seen and heard--- and felt. The stories in his library would no longer suffice. There was something deeper burning in him now that had been absent all of his life. He could no more turn his back on that inkling--- whatever it was, than to tear off his own arm or leg. Now to see the impetus of that change abandoning the joyful defiance that had first drawn him out of his isolation was too much to bear. He could not stand to see the fire of independence put out in Adrianna, not for his own sake, but for hers.

“I can’t forget you. I can’t forget what you’ve shown me.”

“Goodbye, Aubrey.”

He remained in the clearing long after Adrianna had gone. He listened to the wind rushing through the oak trees. He watched the night animals on their nocturnal parades and heard their mournful songs. One by one, even they disappeared into their nests and hollows; the whip-poor-wills and foxes and the opossums. He stayed long after the moon had fled leaving him surrounded only by the crushing weight of darkness.

FACT: Owl colleges are some of the most prestigious in the animal kingdom.

He drifted in and out of conversation, dwelling instead upon his own thoughts of Adrianna and her interest in him of all gnomes. Ozimander’s heated words drew Aubrey back in.

“If you had shown half as much interest in your studies as you do your insignificant fancies you might have made something of yourself. Now you’ve gone and revealed yourself to one of the other races; to a commoner at that. Good grief, I do not envy your father. His disappointment must be palpable.”

Adrianna stood mutely taking in the elder owl’s rebuke. Her face was expressionless. Her eyes seemed fixed on some indeterminate object off in the distance.

At last Aubrey’s anger flared and broke free from its constraints. He stepped forward.

“Be quiet. Now listen, I don’t know why Adrianna revealed herself to me and to be honest, I don’t care. She’s become my friend. She is considerate and friendly, which is more than I can say for you, sir. I know a bit about you owls now. A bit more than the average gnome at least, and I know that you’re not omniscient. You only think you’re wiser than everyone else, but really you’re just like the rest of us mere mortals.”

“I don’t have time for your ramblings boy. You don’t know the first thing about which you speak.” He turned to leave. “As for you, child, I suggest that you abandon your immature fancies and start living up to the standard of your race. Leave these little ‘things’ alone to go about their business. Anything else will really just confuse them and make them unhappy. See, you’ve already ruined this one. Now, I am needed at the Grove. Goodbye. I pray that you will heed my advice.”

With a rush of feathers he disappeared into the night leaving Aubrey and Adrianna standing alone in a diffused circle of moonlight. Neither spoke. Adrianna was looking down at her feet.

“Thank you for standing up for me,” she said after a moment. Her voice was a hushed whisper and was barely audible against the constant fluttering of wind through the leaves. “You didn’t have to do that. It’s my own fault.”

FACT: Gnomes do not easily forget ... but authors do

“That’s a very intriguing question indeed,” a third, ominous voice boomed. From the shadows, barely illuminated by the moonlight stared a pair of enormous eyes supported by a shadowy silhouette. Almost comically large, they would have seemed buffoonish if it were not for the malice they conveyed.

With two labored steps the owner of this imposing visage stepped out of the darkness ---an owl of gargantuan size. His hulking mass made Adrianna appear petite by comparison. Two tufts of feathers jutted out of the owl’s head like horns.

“Hello Ozimander,” Adrianna said defiantly.

“Hello indeed. What are you doing with this thing?” the great bird asked, brushing aside her greeting. He waddled closer to Aubrey and stared at him as a scientist might observe a dissected frog. “I’ve never known you to play with our food.” His voice trailed off into a low growl.

“He’s not food. His name is Aubrey and he is a friend.” She stepped forward and stood between Ozimander and Aubrey. “What brings you down from the highlands anyway? I’ve never seen you this far south.”

“My endeavors take me many places, young one. In fact, I am on my way to the Grove this very night. A meeting has been called. I have been summoned of course. You might have known as much if you hadn’t been out cavorting with Lessers.” A fire began to rise in Aubrey but he forced it back. Despite the situation he found that he did not fear this creature. For all his menace, Aubrey saw only the absurdity of his appearance. His eyes were of course prominent but so too was his vast bulk and the difficulty with which he walked. His plumage was a mottled brown and several patches were permanently ruffled as if disturbed by some imperceptible breeze. Aubrey’s attention was drawn to the owl’s beak as he spoke to Adrianna. It was weathered and scratched in several places--- and dirty. Near the corner was a piece of stray hair from some unfortunate victim. The image of this disgusting old bird choking down some unsuspecting mouse proved to be revolting and, strangely, absurd. Aubrey forced himself back into their conversation.

At last the sun dropped below the horizon. It shimmered for a moment like a great orange sea and then it was gone. For a time the glow lingered like a petulant gnomeling refusing to go to bed. It cast strange, otherworldly shadows on the landscape. Hillsides became marauding trolls. Lakes, still glittering in the dusky twilight became sets of ravenous eyes staring unblinkingly from the darkness.

Slowly they began to descend. The air, which had grown noticeably cooler, warmed a little. Carried by Adrianna’s powerful wings they spun in wide circles pulling ever closer to the familiarity of earth. The landscape regained its features. The great forest emerged from obscurity. Mill Pond lay bathed in moonlight. Several deer, grazing contentedly in the corn field, gave a passing glance at them as they landed nearby before returning to their feeding.

She released him within a few inches of the ground so that by starting with his feet already running, he was able to land with a bit of his dignity intact rather than plop to the ground like a dead shrew. She fluttered into place a yard or so away.

“Why can’t we keep going?” he asked with the giddy enthusiasm of a young gnome. “You can see in the dark can’t you?”

“I can, but it’s probably best if we weren’t gallivanting around where we might be seen.”

“We were gallivanting?”

“You know what I mean,” she chided.

“So you’re ashamed of me?” Aubrey asked.

“No. Not exactly.”

“So, I’m not the only one risking his reputation here?” he said with a wink.

“Yes,” she sighed. “Aubrey, there are things you’re going to learn about my kind. I said before that we’re not the idols you make us out to be and that is very true. We’re prideful and arrogant. The notion that we’re all wise and knowing has gotten it into our heads that we’re better than the other species. Some of us are grounded, but most owls aren’t. They wouldn’t look kindly on another owl spending time with a ‘lesser’ species.”

A pause.

“So why are you spending time with me?” Aubrey inquired.

FACT: The owl has better vision than the eagle and will not hesitate to inform you of this

The Meadow became a golden blur as they past above it. Instinctively, he grasped tightly to Adrianna’s talon. She chuckled. They circled round the Meadow rising higher and higher until the familiar landscape became a featureless mass; an artist’s rendering. Aubrey saw smoke rising from a dozen burrows where families were just settling down for supper. Little ones gathered around for portions of cornbread and stew. He pictured fathers’ sitting with feet propped on footstools enjoying the close of the day. He wondered what they would say if they could see him above it all; taking it all in. He saw the granary where his father had spent sixty years of his life. Everything lay spread out before him like words upon a page.

As they flew, Aubrey became aware of unknown land beyond the borders of Fairfield Meadow. They followed the river upstream beyond Hammerfield Bridge which served as the northernmost boundary. Great stones littered the streambed creating a turbulent cascade which shimmered like a flow of diamonds in the light of the setting sun. Up and up they flew until Aubrey was forced to squint into the flare of the sun which hung just above the horizon like some glittering jewel set upon the countryside. Far beyond lay lands foreign and exotic. Aubrey marveled at patches of forests, dark and foreboding. Lakes of all sizes dotted the land like teardrops. Above all, he was amazed at the vastness of the world which seemed to spread out in all directions as limitless as the sky. 

FACT: Blue Jays are rude, loud, and poor party guests

“What are you afraid of?” she asked facetiously.

“Oh, you know, just plummeting to the earth, nothing major.”

“Do you trust me?”

He paused for a moment asking himself that very same question. Up to this point he’d found no reason to doubt her motives. If she had wanted to eat him, for instance, she could have easily done so when they first met alone in the darkness on the edge of the forest. She’d seemed genuinely sincere when she apologized for what had happened to him. If she had wanted to discredit him she had the opportunity. She could have flown off and never returned leaving him the crazy old gnome who claimed to have seen an owl, but she came back. On top of this there was something earnest behind those saucer-like eyes and jovial smile. It was intangible but very real.

“So how does this work?” Aubrey asked tentatively.

“Well, I have to hold you in my talons, I guess. I’ve never given someone a ride before, at least not willingly.” She chuckled in a way that did nothing to alleviate Aubrey’s fears.

With a flutter she hopped down onto the ground next to him. She stood nearly a foot tall and towered over the eight inch gnome. He was about to ask how she would go about picking him up when suddenly she unfurled her wings and with a few quick beats was airborne. Before Aubrey could take a deep breathe he found himself gripped firmly yet delicately in Adrianna’s talons. The wind rushing past his face caused him to close his eyes. He felt his hat begin to slide off his head and he franticly grasped at it with both hands. It was only then that he realized he had been gripping her foot for dear life. Now, with nothing but her strong grasp holding him, he forced open his eyes… 

FACT: Field mice have the reputation for preparing world-class lasagna

She laughed, broke off a dead branch, and threw it toward Aubrey. He dodged it nimbly.

“You’d better watch out. You don’t want to have an owl for an enemy.”

“And why is that?”

“Incredible eyesight, Razor-sharp talons, the ability to do this.” She turned her head nearly a full circle.

“That’s disgusting.”

“All the better to see you with, my dear.”

The sunset bathed the forest in an inviting emerald glow, the kind that always made Aubrey feel like curling up to watch the day’s conclusion. Days like these were the reason he used to venture out in the evenings. For every hundred overcast and rainy nights; for every night he’d come home sniffling and shaking the raindrops off his coat, there was an evening like this, when the universe seemed to smile and look down on the Meadow. What was it the sages’ said? “The evening’s glow is a reminder to take stock of the day.” All the turmoil of the past weeks was melting away into the balmy amber tide.

“Do you want to fly with me?” Adrianna asked.

“Come again?”

“Fly. You know,” she pointed to the sky with her wing. “It’s fun. And perfectly safe.”

“Yeah, if by perfectly safe you mean hurtling perilously through the air in the talons of a potentially dangerous bird of prey, then yeah, sure.”

“Only potentially dangerous?” she quipped. “Come on, you can trust me…”

FACT: Ravens are notorious gossips

“What was that all about?” a familiar voice asked.

Aubrey looked up to see Adrianna perched on the lowest branch of a nearby oak tree. Her smiling face did nothing to alleviate his frustrations. Momentarily, he refused to address her and instead stood inwardly fuming. Finally, he relented.

“You, actually. It’s about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, ever since I met you my life has been turned inside out. My friends think I’m a liar --- or crazy and the Council thinks I’m hiding some secret message.” He paused for breath.

“I’m sorry,” she began.

Everything that had happened in the last few weeks churned within his gut yearning to lash out; to question her motives; to blame her for all of this mess. His lips tried to form the words but in spite of himself he said, “No, it’s not your fault.”

“Yes it is. I’m the one who talked to you. I should have realized how the other gnomes would see it, especially your council of elders. Aubrey, I’m sorry for anything that has happened to you.”

Silence.

“You’re right,” Aubrey finally said, “It is all your fault.” For the first time in seemingly ages, a sly smile formed…

There was a long silence. A warm breeze sent leaves spinning to the ground like airborne dervishes. In the distance a veery sang its ethereal song. A pair of doves cooed lovingly.

“I can’t explain, Anselm. I just can’t.” He fought the desire to explain everything involving the council and its threats, the visits, and the mysterious gnomes who shadowed him when we was off work. He wanted to open up and not live in fear of the ramifications. He wanted to admit that he wished the whole ordeal had never happened. “You have to believe me. I’m not trying to keep things from you. I want to explain but I can’t.”

“Well I’m sorry that you can’t trust me anymore. I guess I’ll leave you to your thoughts then” he said turning to go. For a moment the two friends stood facing each other. A lifetime seemed to pass in that tepid silence. Finally Anselm side-stepped Aubrey and headed off down the trail. “Have a great evening,” he barked as he rounded a bend and disappeared. Anselm never even turned to look back.

Quiet again fell on the forest. Oblivious to time, Aubrey stood as the sun sank lower and lower on the horizon. He bit his lip to contain alternating thoughts of rage and despair. He both hated his friend and yet longed to be free from the burden of silence. Through the pain, he heard the voice of his father speak. “Be strong,” he had often said, “The world is never as dark as the darkness we create for it.” The old gnome, now departed had seen his share of struggles debating the council as foreman of the granary as well as trying to raise three precocious boys intent on exploring the limits of the Meadow. Still he had always remained a rock amid it all. He could spend fourteen hours with a scythe in his hand and still have the energy to wrestle Aubrey and his brothers before bedtime. Aubrey wished that his father were here now. He longed to feel his strong arms surround him, protecting him. He prayed for an ounce of the strength Abner Meriwether possessed. But his father was gone; passed on before his time and he was alone. All Aubrey could do was honor his memory by trying to live up to his father’s example; never resigning to fear or doubt.

A symphony of crickets and the night songs of birds filled the clearing. Then a voice spoke…

The next few weeks passed slowly and unremarkably as the memory of Aubrey’s experiences faded like a wisp of a dream. Yet even as he attempted to return to normalcy by doubling his workload and devouring book after book in his free time, something was changing in him. His demeanor was altered. He remained silent more often and his close friends noted that he seemed sullen and distant. Most notably, he had ceased his evening walks and instead found himself going to bed earlier and earlier despite the allure of the late summer sun. All of these trends went unnoticed by Aubrey however, as it is most difficult to discern changes when you are the one being changed. He gave little thought to the awkward pauses that now littered conversations with Anselm, his oldest and most trusted friend. He told no one of Archibald’s visit for fear of further inciting rumors and suspicions. In short, he tried to get on with his life.

One day as they were returning home after a long day in the fields, Anselm stopped to stare into the slanted sunlight filtering through the canopy of leaves. This was unusual behavior for the usually unsentimental Anselm. Aubrey took notice, paused for a moment in silence and drank in the warmth of the late afternoon sun.

Anselm spoke first.

“I’m worried about you Aubrey.”

“What?”

“You’ve been a different gnome for a while now. Something’s changed.” He continued to stare blankly into the trees.

“Nothing’s changed. I’m getting back to normal, if anything.”

“That’s not it. You’re quiet, too quiet. It’s like your heart just isn’t in it anymore.”

“My heart isn’t in what?” Aubrey asked.

“In life.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m the same gnome as ever.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Ever since you saw that owl,” he paused as if the word caused him physical pain. “You’ve been dead inside. You were so excited, to say the least, when it first happened. Then you changed. What happened?”

Aubrey did not speak …

“Whatever you call it young sir, your indiscretions have caused much talk in this community. Gnome now speaks to gnome in questioning whispers. Whatever your purposes, you have caused quite a stir.”

“That was not my intention, sir.”

“Your intentions are irrelevant,” Archibald fumed with a vein rising in his forehead. “Whatever you claim to have seen, it would be wise to divulge anything that you have learned. The council would not want any harm to befall you due to something easily preventable.”

Aubrey felt something white and hot rising within him; something totally incongruous with his nature. As the old gnome’s voice died down a greater force bubbled up. He set down the tea kettle.”

“Mr. Porter, I know what I saw,” his voice trembled. “I saw an owl and I spoke with an owl. And I’m not hiding anything from the council. You can save your threats and your arguments. Now I’m going to politely ask you to leave.”

The elder was taken aback. He paused a moment to compose himself. Straightening his shirt he said: “My friend, I can only encourage you to abandon your delusions for your own sake. And if anything should come to your mind, I pray you would have the sense to bring it to us before inciting any more rumors. You owe that to your community if not to yourself.” He leaned heavily on his cane and turned toward the door.  He took a step and paused as if he were about to say something else. In a moment, though, he was gone and Aubrey let out a sigh--- his hand was trembling. The tea boiled in the kettle…

“I hope you don’t mind me coming down. My old bones don’t support me as they once did, the recompense for wisdom I assure you. Let me introduce myself. I am Archibald Porter. You have no doubt heard of me?” The elder stuck out his hand and Aubrey met it. He was surprised at the firmness of the gnome’s handshake.

Aubrey searched his memories for the name but the only relevant events were the times when his father would fume over the council’s decisions to increase grain quotas. He thought it would be best to leave those out of polite conversation. So instead, he lied, “Of course. Would you care for some tea?” He asked reaching for some matches to start the fire.

“No, No, I can’t stay long. I’m only here because it has come to the council’s attention that you have been having some interesting adventures.” The old gnome laid heavy emphasis on the word ‘interesting.’

“I wouldn’t exactly call them that.”

“On the contrary, from what I have heard, you claim to have seen an owl. Is that correct? An encounter with a member of that serendipitous race is a momentous event. To encounter an owl proves one worthy among his peers. Until now only council members have been so honored. I would call that an adventure indeed.

“It wasn’t exactly like that,” Aubrey said quietly.

FACT: Gnomes only sleep 5 hours a night.

“Aubrey, whatever happened out there, I’d keep quiet about it. The Council won’t like it. Everything has to go through them. If an owl did appear, they’re going to want to know about it.”

“Thanks, Anselm.” Aubrey waved as his friend disappeared into his hole situated between two thorn bushes.

As he walked the remainder of the trip home in silence, Aubrey was conflicted. Burning bright was the memory of Adrianna and all of the feelings it stirred in him. He could hardly doubt the authenticity of her bright eyes and child-like laugh. But why had she revealed herself? If it was truly unprecedented in history for an owl to appear without an omen, why would she so cavalierly appear? And why to him rather than a member of the council of elders? The questions seemed to grow and spin about as he descended the familiar tunnel to his home. The allure of his comfy bed and the simplicity of his dreams would be a welcome respite from these tumultuous thoughts.

He entered and found, standing in his living room beside the mantle, the oldest gnome he had ever seen. The gnome, whose grey beard spilled nearly to the floor, stood no more than four inches high and leaned upon a think wooden cane. Despite his decrepit appearance he bore the air of influence. He turned slowly as Aubrey entered.

“Good evening Mr. Meriwether. The Council sends its greetings…”

FACT: Earthworms remain friendly to gnomes. Crows despise them.

“I mean it was dark and the shadows play tricks on us. Our imaginations can run away with us when we’re near the great forest, especially at night.” Anselm added this last jab as a disapproving critique of his friend’s evening forays.

Aubrey looked his friend deeply in the eyes and with as much restrain as he could muster said, “I know what I saw.”

It was true that ever since his encounter with Adrianna two evenings before, he had been unable to get the memory off his mind. Clearly he remembered her dark brown plumage and dainty ear tufts which were flecked with just a touch of white feathers at the tips. He remembered the softness of her voice that diffused his fear. Beyond all else though, he remembered her eyes which seemed to contain all of the world. Those eyes he could never mistake for an illusion or trick of the mind.

“Okay, Okay. You saw an owl. I’ve just never seen you so wound up before.” He paused. 

“So if she wasn’t bringing a message, why did she reveal herself to you?”

“I have no idea. It just happened.”

“I mean throughout all of recorded history, there has never been an owl sighting that didn’t proclaim something important --- something monumental.”

Anselm’s words hung heavy in the air as the two gnomes went back to their work. With the questions swimming in the air around them, they stripped and harvested the dandelion stalks and roots. Aubrey’s hands worked with ease in the task that they had been trained to do so many years before. Nearly twenty years they had worked these fields, side by side, gathering the food needed to feed the community for another day. It was good work, important work. The sweat bled through their shirts and left little collars around their necks. The hours passed, sunlight waned and evening found the two friends walking down the path to their respective homes.

It wasn’t until they neared Anselm’s door that either spoke…

“She was beautiful, Anselm,” Aubrey said to the stout, sour-faced gnome hunched over in the weeds beside him. “She was funny and mysterious and …”

“Listen,” Anselm began, “You’ve had a remarkable experience. I understand. I really do. I mean you saw an owl. That’s bound to have an effect on any gnome, but you have to keep your head about you.”

Aubrey folded his arms in protest to his friend’s condescending words. “No, you don’t understand at all.”

“What don’t I understand?” Anselm asked angrily. He glanced around and lowered his voice. 

“What did she tell you?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, what was her message?”

“She didn’t have one. I mean I don’t think she had one. She said that we make a bigger deal of messages and omens than we should.”

His friend looked disappointed. Anselm put down the dandelion stalk he had been harvesting and looked at Aubrey skeptically. He had known Anselm since they were mere gnomelings and while his friend had grown a bit stodgy in his years; he had never proved to be obstinate or combative.

“Are you sure you actually saw this owl?” he asked quietly…

FACT: Gnomes typically travel less than one mile from home their entire lives.

Gnomes are a noble race; less sullen than dwarves and less frivolous than elves. They come from hard-working stock; persistent, dedicated, and self-sacrificing. A dwarf will get the job done but his constant complaining will make you regret that you ever asked. An elf, on the other hand, is quite likely to get distracted by a bird on the wing, a song, or some brightly colored moss and flit off leaving you in the lurch. No. If you want a job done right, ask a gnome.

To be fair, teenage gnomelings have been known to cause some mischief but they quickly abandon their rambunctious ways once they reach their early twenties at which point they have established their own household and are fully entrenched in the working world.

All of these traits were personified in Aubrey down to the last detail. He enjoyed his work, enjoyed the sense of accomplishment more. He was never sick, late, or distracted. That is, until July 23^rd…

FACT: Owls never hunt for sport.

“I’ve seen owls,” he said, “in books.”

“I’m not a book.”

“I know.”

“What do you know? What do you know about us?

“Well,” Aubrey began, “owls are seen as good fortune or bringers of good omens.”

“Omens?” she interrupted.

“Yeah, you know, like messages.”

“Do I look like I have an omen?”

“I don’t know. Do you?”

“Um,” she forced her voice to sound regal and authoritative. “There is a mouse in that field yonder who shall not be returning home tonight.”

Aubrey laughed. For the first time he could see that Adrianna, too, was smiling.

“Why do you gnomes think that we know everything?”

“Well,” he paused, trying to remember his history classes in school. “Montgomery the Great warned us of the fire in ’14.”

“Are you kidding? Montgomery wasn’t great. He was lazy and couldn’t support his own owlets. And the only reason he warned you gnomes was that his wife forced him.”

“Oh. Well, aren’t you owls all wise?”

“Well, I am,” she said in mock self-adulation. “No, the only reason we seem wise is because we can, you know, fly and see stuff before you can. Owls are just as gnomish as you gnomes. We’re not the gods you make us out to be. We fail. There are some really bad owls, I assure you.”

“and you’re a good owl?”

“I don’t know. I try to be.” She paused tilting her head quizzically. “You know, you’re the first gnome I’ve met who hasn’t bowed down when he met me?”

“Should I be bowing?” Aubrey asked with a smirk.

“Maybe,” she laughed her twittering laugh. “But it’s nice to be able to be myself around someone.” She smoothed her feathers with her wing. Her piercing eyes seemed to illuminate the night. Conversation stalled and there was silence until a noise from the bushes --- the field mouse poked his head out then shrunk back at the sight of the great bird of prey.

“I should get going,” she said quietly. “Maybe I’ll see you again Aubrey Meriwether.” With a beat of her great wings she was aloft. Aubrey stood watching silently until she disappeared into the blackness of the night sky…

FACT: The oldest known gnome was Aquinas Taft who was 273 when he died in a wood-splitting accident.

“Whoooo are you?” the shadow repeated. After a moment however, the voice descended into a trilling laughter that was somewhat musical. “Get it? ‘Whoooo are you?’ It’s an owl thing” the voice chirped playfully. For the first time Aubrey noted that the voice was distinctly female.

“You’re an owl?” Aubrey asked in a way that was more of a statement. In the darkness he could make out the shape of the great bird perched on the boundary fence. He saw its eyes staring back at him, unblinking.

“And you’re a gnome,” she said matter of factly. “My name is Adrianna.”

“Aubrey. Aubrey Meriwether,” he stammered.

“Well Aubrey Meriwether, why is a gnome like yourself out past his bedtime?” she teased. “Surely you know the dangers that lurk in the forest at night.”

“Um, well, I mean, I enjoy walks in the evening and the sun set quicker than I had expected and I was just looking out at the forest and I lost track of time and…” the words spilled from him until Adrianna interrupted.

“You’ve never seen an owl have you? …

FACT: Gnomes prefer nonfiction.

He walked almost without thinking as his feet carried him down familiar trails. He passed through the clover field, over Cistern Brook, and beyond the distillery where the air smelled malty of hops. He turned down a path that skirted the edge of the forest. This was the far extreme of the Common Land where the gnomes of Fairfield Meadow lived and worked. To his right an old split rail fence guarded the boundary to the forest from adventurous teenagers who might be tempted to explore. It had been constructed generations ago but new planks marked where it had been repaired more recently. Aubrey remembered a day in his youth when his friends had dared him to cross it and enter the darkness of the woods. Despite their taunts, he never found the courage to set foot beyond the fence.

As he was pondering these memories, he caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. A shadow moved. There was a rustle and a passing breeze. Aubrey looked and directly in front of him sat an ominous shadow on the fencepost.

“Whoooo are you?” a great voice boomed…

FACT: Dandelion petals, stems, and roots make up 25% of a gnome’s diet

Dinner was finished and the dishes were washed on a late July day when Aubrey threw his cloak over his arm and climbed out of this cozy home beneath the tree. It was no small feat either because gnomes, who desire privacy above all else, build their homes deep among the twisted roots of old trees where no one can disturb them.  Often there are tangles and false corridors to keep out strangers.  Aubrey, who knew his passageways like the back of his hand, was out in no time. He paused only when a button got caught on a sharp root.

The evening air was warm and he took a deep breathe, letting it fill his lungs. The sun was just dropping below the horizon and the tall grasses of the field were silhouetted in the fading light. He dusted himself off, gave an approving glance, and set out down the familiar path…

FACT: A gnome's beard doesn't grow until he is 27 and a half years old.

Aubrey, like all gnomes, enjoyed a simple life. He enjoyed his quiet home beneath the tree. He enjoyed a hard day’s labor. He enjoyed his tea piping hot. In truth, the only remarkable thing about Aubrey was that he enjoyed taking walks in the cool of the evening. Due to the dangers inherent in the darkness, gnomes made it a rule never to venture out at night. Even from a young age, gnomelings were taught to fear the dark. Yet, it was on one of these walks, when the fireflies danced, twinkling in the twilight that Aubrey saw something peculiar. This is the story of what he saw…

FACT: Gnomes love owls.

Deep down beneath the roots of an old oak tree where sunlight almost never reached, a fire crackled peacefully. Hanging above the fire whistled an old iron teapot. A weather-beaten cloak hung on a peg near the door. Into that dimly lit room walked Aubrey Meriwether. His long hair, which normally remained hidden under his pointy hat, was pulled back and tied in a sort of a pony-tail. He stroked his long red beard with each step. Aubrey Meriwether’s life was utterly unremarkable. He read unremarkable books. He had unremarkable friends. He worked an unremarkable job. But all that would change when one night he would see a flutter on a darkened fencepost…