Late last night, I was driving my clear jeep, the ‘Rubber Duckie’, on Beaverbrook as I made my way home. I had the top & doors off and was enjoying the slightly warm breeze on my skin. Notre Dame had pulled off a miraculous win at the last minute. It was the perfect way to start my weekend. I was tired from the long drive and was ready to be home.

The harvest moon was bright enough to see many details, but dark enough to still cast shadows and give you pause of the night life. I had just rounded the 1st roundabout when I felt a cold chill come over me. As I looked ahead, there was a beautiful lady in a long black gown standing in the middle of the road. She appeared to be sad as she looked towards my jeep. I slowed my car down to see if I could be of assistance. As I approached, I could see a tear escape as she sobbed a heavy sigh.

Under her breathe I heard her mumble, “It is just not fair… how was it even possible… Notre Dame actually won?” Never in a million years did she believe those Irish boys could upset the Dukes. And to make things worse, her trusted mare was also under the weather. Oh well, you win some & you loose some. At least Rhiannon is still able to run. Then she wiped her tear while winking at me, a slight smirk crossed her lips. She turned flipped her hair, and faded into the darkness singing Rhiannon.

I was spellbound. The girl reminded me of someone… When I got home, a beautiful lady was tucked in bed sleeping snuggly. Had I not noticed her dirty toes, I would have thought it was all a dream.

Food for thought – Whaling sounds tough…
The Wellerman.