I sit at the kitchen table of my new house, the sunlight illuminating colorful heaps of llama wool surrounding me. The soft, bright wool of little Renny–the subtle tones from the spots in the wool of Levi and Tumbleweed–the luxurious, dark brown wool of Lally: I am surrounded by the wool of my friends. As I breathe in the sweet smell of llama, memories flood over me, everything from the first thrilling days with our two young males to those tumultuous last months at Juniper Ridge.
On the floor are bags of more wool. Whiskers’ wool is a rich, deep black, but useless for spinning. His guard hairs are almost as soft as his undercoat and consequently his wool contains more bits of hay and dirt than I have the patience to clean out.
I pick up a small handful of Renny’s wool, pull it apart with my fingers, and let tiny bits of dirt fall down onto the table. It is the first time I’ve touched her wool since we sheared her, and suddenly I can’t see it clearly. My eyes fill with tears as I think of how sweetly she would put her delicate face next to mine for a greeting.
Lil Bit’s wool is easier to clean. It’s thick and long, and the very thickness seems to keep out some debris. I set to work cleaning a pile of it, thinking that of all the llamas, Lil was the one I could most easily connect with telepathically. Or was it just my imagination?
Lil suddenly appears in my mind. “And they call the animals dumb!” she sniffs.
“Well, look, Lil, this is a big stretch for me.”
“And about time, too. Rosana, you need to understand that we are all connected. Every llama knows this, from the womb on. We connect with each other, but also with people. We knew before you did, that you would be leaving Juniper Ridge. We felt a change in the energy, building up for a long time.”
“What do you think of what happened with Posey?” I ask.
“Ah, Posey.” Lil ruminates. “She and I have shared our lives, and yet there is much that I don’t understand. We go to different places. When I feel the earth beneath me, immense peace enters my body.
“Posey goes up into the sky and far beyond. I have tried to follow her, but I can’t get very far before the earth pulls me back. She goes way, way out. When we sit and chew our cuds, I can feel her drifting away, and then for a long time I don’t feel any connection. When she was pregnant with Renaissance, they both would go out there. I haven’t noticed that with her other babies. When you decided to leave the mountains, Posey was afraid that at the lower elevations of earth, it would be even harder for her to stomach this life.”
“Was it?”
“Yes, at first. But she has changed. She has become more accepting of the rest of us. I think she will stay on earth for a normal lifespan.
