Imagination Made Real

January 31, 2012
By FreyaConners SILVER, Windsor, Connecticut
FreyaConners SILVER, Windsor, Connecticut
7 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Sounds of hoof beats were in the air, followed by the clash of wood on metal. Cheering could be heard from afar as the men got off of horses and stood in the middle of the arena. And man and a woman, the king and queen, stood from thrones and applauded the men called Sir Lancelot and Sir Gwaine.

Magic could be felt in the air from the people walking the dirt paths. The worlds of old and new melded together. From the shops that sold incense and oils and perfumes, to the people walking around taking pictures with cameras and talking on cell phones while eating modern food.

Turn around, to the acrobats flying in the air, enchanting their audience. The sounds of arrows flying through the air could be heard from the archery practice in the booth right by.

Turn around again, chainmail from one of the booths was glittering in the air, hanging from the post. Bottles filled with different substances that catch one’s eye.

Turn one last time and see the actors upon a stage. Women dancing all around, the gold coins of the skits jingling from the movements.

Close eyes and just listen, listen to the beat of the drum that dancers are following. Listen to the sounds of the flute from a booth nearby. Now just imagine the musician’s fingers moving expertly along the beautifully crafted instrument.

The sound of hoof beats could be heard once again making eyes open again and a big black horse comes in to view with a beautiful young woman upon, with hair as dark as the young steed’s mane. The woman’s name is Morgana and the man on the other horse is named Mordred, and the two have come to speak with King Arthur and Queen Guinevere. Words were exchanged, threats were said and the ebony haired sorceress and sorcerer were on their way and once gone, the atmosphere became light once more.

Close eyes just once more and the young teen girl opens them again, realizing this is really happening; this isn’t all in the brunette’s head. A smile is formed and feet start to move, to where? The teen doesn’t know but is happy that dreams of the imagination can be made real.

The author's comments:
This is what was going through my mind the first time I went to a Renaissance Faire.

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