Maria and her friends Athena and Mandy – I call them the Good Witches – meet every week, either at the Round House Cafe or at one their homes. Unlike men, they make time for their gatherings, they are important to them, and their connection is deep and faithful.

They are always available to listen to one another and support one another, although Maria and I do not talk about what was said or discussed. Sometimes, I see white light coming off of them and I think they cast spells in there. Birds fly backwards, snow swirls, the songbirds sing in tongues, and the heads of angry people spin.

I would not mess with them. Last night, they met in Maria’s studio, and when I went out to take the dogs out, the studio was so bright I thought it might be on fire. The sheep baaaahed, the donkeys brayed and the dogs shivered and ran in circles.

I could not even see inside the studio, and I thought I saw a deer fly over head, he had huge antlers. The dogs ran back to the farmhouse, and the howls of coyotes pierced the quiet of the night.

I went into my studio to write, and when I came out a few minutes later, the witches were gone, and the studio had returned to it’s normal color.