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“Well, are you just going to sit there with your mouths gaping-open or are you able to speak? Why didn’t you announce yourselves prior to crashing ashore, the Fairy Queen scolded.
How-Ya-Do’s eyes were even larger than usual as he cowered on Cricket’s shoulder; the both of them speechless, shocked into silence, and Face-to-Face with Magic itself!
You scared the spark right out of us, well speak-up for goodness sake before I sicâ€� The Hummers onto you both, she warned while pointing to the massive army of bees.”
― Darwun St James, CRICKET

“Whatever the water touched was riparian: that moist layer of air and rich earth along the shore was an Eden for many forms of life. Some drowned in a daily flood, while those that knew how, thrived. There was something riparian too about the people who spent most of their time on the water. Those whose language and equilibrium had been dictated by the elements around them. Who’d learned to hang on in the ever-shifting swell and drift of water under their feet. Contrast and contradictions abounded for those who had learned to meander despite limited space or to be still in the midst of all that rocking.”
― Brian K. Friesen, At the Waterline