Spring hopes eternal
A few years ago, a curiously marshy area appeared, half way up one of the fields where I live. It hadn't been there very long before some of my more alternative friends started becoming aware of its energy. Surely this was more than just a curiously marshy area, they said, knowledgeably. After much dowsing and meditation, it was decided that it was in fact a sacred spring, a gift from the Goddess and was dutifully cleared out. According to all and sundry, the water tasted amazing. Above the spring, in the next field, our two horses looked up occasionally from drinking at their horse trough, but said nothing.
Blessings then occurred, plentifully and with much ceremony. A priestess, arms wide to the heavens, sanctified the site by calling down four of the available one hundred and sixteen elements, before doing lots of chanting.
After scattering flower petals across its shallow puddle of muddy water, the spring was deemed fully anointed and ready for whatever springs do. So far, so New Age.
When the marshy area had so curiously appeared, a few weeks before, I'd remarked casually... "Yeah right, I bet it's just from a leaky water pipe."
After being scorned out of the field, after blessings and sippings and holding hands and life settling back into routine, a leaky pipe was discovered, feeding the horse trough, turned off and Lo! No more spring.