The Desert Druid Council

 

THE DESERT DRUID COUNCIL

 

I rode out the back gate this morning with Jack, headed for a place I've called Burro Canyon for years. I named it Burro Canyon the first time I rode into it. There were burro tracks everywhere. Enough of them that the name seemed obvious.

 Later, I was told the burros had died off because there was no water.

Apparently, the burros didn't get the memo.

On the way into the canyon today, Jack and I found burro tracks. And fresh burro poop. So...the burros are back.

We spent some time milling around Burro Canyon, enjoying the morning, then turned for home. That's when I saw it.

The Druid Ring

I've ridden this country dozens of times. I've passed through here, around here, and probably within spitting distance of this exact spot. Yet somehow, I had never noticed it.

It wasn't a fire ring. The rocks weren't gathered around a depression. The ground inside the circle was slightly raised, almost like the rocks had been deliberately placed around the old piece of mesquite lying in the middle.

 It looked old. Really old.

"Well, that's interesting."

Because I have a history with rocks.

Back up north,  I once discovered an entire population of rocks that eventually became known as the Druids of Hell Rock Arena. I had assumed they were a local phenomenon.

Apparently not.

Sitting there on my trusty steed in the Arizona desert, looking at that circle, I realized something important.

The Druids had relatives. Relatives that prefer a warmer neighborhood. Much wiser relatives.

I highly suspect these are the Desert Druid Council I’ve heard about in legends and lore.

They don't look exactly like their northern cousins. These ones are sun-baked, desert-hardened, and considerably less concerned about rain. But I recognize the attitude.

They're watching.

They're judging.

And I'm fairly certain they've already held a meeting about me.

Probably something along the lines of:

 "She's here."

"Again?"

"Apparently."

"What does she want?"

"Probably to move us."

"Everyone remain perfectly still."

So now I have two mysteries on my hands. The first is where the burros went...and why they've decided to come back. The second is why I've ridden past the Desert Druid Council approximately seventeen thousand times without seeing them.

I'm beginning to suspect the Druids only reveal themselves when they have something to say.

And judging from the looks on their faces...they have plenty to say.

The proof is in the poop