As Scratch and her troupe continued their preparations for the performer’s upcoming tour a regular stream of ponies, zebras, and griffins came to the Silver Mirror. Either because they had official business related to the upcoming tour, or simply because Scratch had invited them to come and spend time hanging out with her and her crew. On any day there was up 70+ ponies on the grounds of the estate. I don’t want to know what grocery bill was for feeding all these ponies, and the budget for the bar must have been breathtaking.
Some of these visitors came. Conducted their business and with that accomplished departed soon after. Some stayed for a couple of days then left. Others we’re technically staying at the estate but would vanish for a few days only to return again. Then there was long-term guests like my household who planned to be there for an extended stay.
So at almost any hour of the day there was an amazing collection of eclectic individuals there at Silver Mirror. Artists, musicians, tailors, seamstresses, writers, philosophers, poets, and dancers mingled and mixed with engineers, mechanics, inventors, lawyers, doctors, and others from numerous scientific fields. The end result was staggeringly diverse collection of individuals who seemed to relish and feed on the synergy that Scratch cultivated. Here was a place where one could stumble upon almost anything.
So it was that late one afternoon myself, Petina, and Carousel having finished our work for the day found ourselves enjoying tall glasses of iced tea. We were resting on lounge chairs under shade of one of the numerous large, brightly colored, canvas umbrellas that were set up in the main garden. The garden itself was this labyrinth-like affair with a paved pathway that twisted and turned its way past bewildering arrays of plants and flowers. Dancing amongst them in the late afternoon light was numerous butterflies of various sizes and colors.
Along this pathway were numerous little cul-de-sac spots where one could lie down on a lounge chair and enjoy the garden and the evening breezes coming in off the ocean. Low hedges divided them and gave one a bit of privacy. Still one could hear the sounds of laughter, impromptu singing, and various conversations coming from around the garden.
There was another group of ponies who were partaking of the early sunset in the next nook over from ours. 4 mares from the sound of it. Like my household they were discussing the day’s events.
“So did ya two enjoy yer little trip down ta Mares Bay?” Said a mare with an accent almost as heavy as AJ’s
“Yes. Yes it was very, very relaxing and enlightening.” A soft, refined voice like smoky honey responded. “Not only was the trip to the university library successful, but there were some very nice escarpments located just outside of the town. The view from the top of them was quite breathtaking. One could look down on the town and out over the bay. Also I found several excellent examples Glacial erratic along the way. Some of them were gorgeous.”
“The view from the top was amazing!” A happy, bubbly voice joined the conversation. “I finished several watercolors and plowed through the pages in one of my sketchbook! I’m hoping to make several larger paintings when I get back home in my studio.”
“Mmm, yes.” A fourth sultry voice spoke up. “Well. Your expedition may have been to look at rocks, but I’ve spent my time indulging myself in the stores and boutiques here in Ft. Trotterdale. I’ve bought myself a simply stunning little outfit for Scratch’s invite-only show! And there’s this simply scrumptious pegasus mare who worked at the boutique where I bought it. I’m hoping to meet her tomorrow night. She’s a tasty little thing!”
My attention was drawn back to what Petina and Carousel were saying, but periodically I’d catch snippets of the 4 mares on the other side of the hedge. But as often happens there was that moment when everypony in a conversation goes silently. It was during one of these lull that we heard.
“Ah Marble! Why did ya go and do that?”
“Really dear. Are rocks the only thing you think about?”
“I wonder if it’s confused?”
“Don’t worry. It’s safe. I’ll change it back in a bit.”
Wondering what the mares were talking about the 3 of us got up and peered over the hedge. What we found was deep violet unicorn, a pegasus mare with almost same colored coat as mine, but with a striped, bright pink mane and tail. A bright yellow earth pony, and a light dove-grey unicorn mare with a short, dark warm grey mane and tail.
The object of the mares focus was perched on the left front hoof of the light grey unicorn mare. It was a tiny, perfectly sculpted, marble butterfly. The mare was staring at it with a little smile on her face. Then she looked up and noticed us.
“Oh. Hello.” She said softly.
To be continued.