The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike, est. 2007) Part 3026 by Angharad Copyright© 2016 Angharad

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This is a work of fiction any mention of real people, places or institutions is purely coincidental and does not imply that they are as suggested in the story.
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The next day we did tourist type things, and visited a few archaeological sites and while the rest of them were running amok amongst tombs, talaiots and taulas I was craftily observing the wildlife from wild flowers to tortoiseshells and the various birds which deigned to put in an appearance. Sardinian warblers were quite common and they can be found here most of the year—according to the books, at any rate—as are Spanish sparrows, which are similar to house sparrows but have more white about the face, so could be confused at a glance with tree sparrows. It was nice to see the latter because they are becoming more scarce back in blighty.

Grasshoppers hopped, unsurprisingly and the odd cricket I had the privilege of spotting walked, which apart from size is one way of differentiating between the two, a bit like frogs and toads. Frogs hop or jump everywhere, toads tend to walk. There are obviously other differences but that will do for now.

Trish was pleased with herself when she spotted a praying mantis and Livvie was exhorted to take photographs of her standing alongside it, that was until it began to walk across her shoulder and towards her hair. To say she went hysterical might be a slight exaggeration but she wasn’t far from it, shrieking or screaming and running round in circles much to the amusement of the others. The fact that as soon as she had started flapping it took off wasn’t communicated to her until I managed to grab her and stop her mad career.

The tortoises were quite small ones and they quickly disappeared into the bushes as soon as they saw or heard us coming, which was met with much disgust by Livvie who wanted a photo of them.

A bit about the archaeology for which Menorca and to some extent Mallorca, are justly famed. The people who lived there until the Romans arrived were described as the Talaiotic culture because they built these large stone towers called talaiots, the purpose of which isn’t really understood, though they obviously demonstrated the relative wealth of a community to be able to erect one of the structures, sometimes more in their settlement.

They also erected some monoliths called a taula, which means a table, because, for the most part, these are one large flat stone on top of another which was standing, thus forming a T shape. Most of them have fallen though the odd one survives or has been restored and they are most impressive, if significantly smaller than Stonehenge trilithons. The taulas, were thought to be involved in ritual worship of some sort but of what sort, we don’t know.

The most complete taula is at Torre Llisa Vell which is one of the smaller ones but the enclosure wall is still standing and to access the taula one has to proceed through the archway where the megalith dominates the whole vista. It’s also one of the quietest monuments being on a working farm, so not too many people come to see it. The energies here feel very feminine or even female compared with most of the other monuments and I’ve been here before. When I asked Stephanie what she made of it, she said it seemed smaller than the others and also gentler.

“What d’you mean by, gentler?” I pressed.

“I don’t know—um—like women are supposed to be gentler than men.”

“So does that make it a women’s monument?”

“I don’t know but if it was it wouldn’t surprise me—why is it?”

“I have no idea, but each time I’ve come here it feels linked to the female essence.”

“What to the goddess—a flipping great phallic monument?”

“Perhaps it relates to the female sex organs, the vagina and the ovaries.”

“I think that may be stretching my imagination just a tad, but I’ll give you it feels gentler perhaps feminine.”

I thought I heard my name whispered followed by a chuckle. It could have been my imagination as the breeze was rustling the leaves on the branches of the trees, but somehow I don’t think it was.

Menorca is important for growing juniper berries from which they make...gin. So the bushes occur all over the place and can be difficult to get through being quite scratchy bushes though they make good cover for the Hermann’s tortoises. There were lizards zipping about on the wall, mainly Italian wall lizards and we get the odd gecko at the house.

Back home, we’d stopped and had a meal on the way home, I was sweeping the kitchen and Stephanie was putting Emily to bed when Trish came into the kitchen and spoke to me.

“That lady, the one who comes in our dreams, she was there, wasn’t she?”

“Who was where?” I prompted playing stupid to learn what she had experienced.

“She was at the small stone place, the one with the tunnel.”

“Torre Llisa Vell, the one on the farm?”

“Is that what it’s called?”

“Yes, the one with the complete enclosure for the taula?”

“That’s the one. I saw her there, she was wearing a gold and green gown and calling you.”

“What was she calling me for, why not speak to you as you seem to hear her more easily?”

“Because I’m only a kid and you’re a grown-up. You’re the leader, anyway.”

“Leader of what?”

“The people she speaks to.”

“What d’you mean, I’m the leader?”

“She told me to follow you and you would lead me to her when I was old enough and that we would do great things together, with the others she was contacting.”

“What are you on about, kiddo?”

“I can’t remember what she said altogether, but something like to get yourself ready because her time was approaching and you would lead the women she had chosen.”

“Lead them to do what?”

“I dunno,” she shrugged.

“Did she tell you to tell me?”

“Dunno, just thought I better had.”

“Oh boy, all I need is some religious nut trying to take up my time—I’m too busy with real things.”

“She is real, Mummy; she was really pleased that you picked up on the female energy at that place Lisa Velli or whatever it’s called. She said you are beginning to understand.”

“Understand what, though?”

“How would I know, I’m s’posed to follow you.”

She did have a point but this keeps happening and I’m sure they got the wrong woman. I know nothing about all this pagan stuff and occasionally I feel very confused about it all. I also can see the irony of it all, me a neo-female, appear to be destined to become some sort of leader of the feminine essence, because it’s strong in me. I mean how can it be if my genes are XY and I suspect that many women would refuse to follow me if they knew, so why bother?