Dear Universe,
My fair cosmic benevolence, how long this winter wracks our spirits. Warm days seem like a distant and winsome dream. I can not remember another one with such a frozen and relentless aspect. Do not think that I am not faithful, hopeful, or any less loving because of the long dark months of back-shuddering cold. As a far northern Yankee, I know the winter hones and sharpens our appreciation for the necessary spring that shall come and fall upon the land with a gentility and sweetness that will be as marked and profound as this haggard and stubborn season of snow and ice. Still, to walk with you hand in hand, lovely universe, in a land to the south, for but a day, but an hour. To feel the sun’s kiss on our faces, to bask in a balmy southerly breeze, to place my naked monkey feet upon the soft and giving earth; these are the things for which I would wish.
In this spirit then, let us go, you and I, to the lands where summer’s sweetness never dies. Here the fiery wheel of the sun burns away all chills from the southern children, the Nobles, who hold their proud heads high with ease and grace. Fire is the element of the south; and the Superstars and Princesses of these gentle lands are the torchbearers. Wherever firelight beats back the night, there people will gather, laugh and sing. Hence, the Nobles are the most social and persuasively dynamic of the cosmic wheel. Passionate and proud, these Princesses of pomp and knightly Superstars are the performers on the worlds stage.
I am not put off by the fierce competitive nature of many Nobles, but instead enjoy the spectacle of their astonishing feats. How many olympians, athletes, singers, celebrities, comedians, clowns, doctors, daredevils and dancers have had the Noble fire in their veins? They sparkle and shine with an ease that will leave many of the rest of the monkeys moaning with envy or desire.
Of course, fire shines, but it burns as well. How many were snubbed by a pernicious Princess, or been scoffed at by Superstars that could not see beyond their own lustre. These Nobles seek influence and recognition, and will not be content until they have it. It is our hope, and mayhaps our very jobs, as the admirers of these Nobles, that they be reminded that the recognition will come for tasks done, not only well, but fairly and justly. Influence is not a bauble with which godlings play toss, but a heavy responsibility. We pray these often trivial primadonnas will realize the power of their smiles and deeds to change the world for the better.
Sadly, many will never make this realization. When the stage lights dim and the applause wanes, how many Nobles have turned to the phantom comforts of drugs and alcohol to fill the spaces that they now discover waiting beneath the veneer of their facade. The very fire of promise and fame have swallowed many a shining star, and we are left blinded to tears by their passing brilliance.
If the Superstar merely learns that the lasting recognition comes from within, and that the only applause needed is the clapping and happy thoughts come from a life well led, then all disaster may be averted. When the Princess puts aside petty ambitions, and raises her voice in a clarion call for the people to unite and reform, then the world will truly know the fruits of summer.
Summer is the southerly season, and it is also the time of Romance. Tales of knightly virtue and daring deeds have graced our theaters and front porch talk for time immemorial. The Nobles see themselves as players in these sagas. If only these shining ones would forever put up their game of thrones, then the summer’s harvest would be for all to enjoy.
The tarot deems the wands as the totem of the south. These represent the will, the passion, the potential of the self. Thus, nobles bear this natural scepter well, and embody our achievements and greatest inspirations, or adhere to the illusion of self-importance and facile meaninglessness.
I wait for summer, my love. I wait for you, in all your finery to play the more gentle tune of greenery and growth. I wait for the Nobles to put aside their trivialities and realize the opportunity the limelight gives them, for the limelight is their lives, brief, sweet and powerful. What else is it for but to add to your grace, by deeds bravely done, by songs sweetly sung. I wait for peace on earth; I wait for the days of Camelot to finally come to the hearts of mankind.
And then, loveliest of lovelies, they will know your grace and wonder. They will know whatever shining glory came from within themselves, came really from you. Whatever part they played in its manifestation they will thank you for that golden opportunity. We will look at such wonderful women and men and say: “Play on! Play on! Encore, Encore!” Such would be the life in the Summerlands of your love.
Your ever faithful and patient lover,
Trav
T. L. Barrett 
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