This last weekend, my wife and I were back in Oregon for the 26th Annual Shrewsbury Renaissance Faire, held in a large field and a piece of woodland in the Coast Range. Other than the extreme fire danger, there were no issues, and it was a good faire weekend. Except, we heard the Herself had passed on the 8th, the Thursday before our Elizabethan Renaissance Faire was to open.
Now, to any of us younger than 70, she has always been The Queen. There are no other royals who have been so firmly placed in our lives. Just look at all the "Stay Calm, and Carry On" memes with her royal crown - and we ALL know, that is her speaking to us, even if it is tongue in cheek. 70 years of being a symbol of stability and good manners in a wild, dangerous, unstable world. My god, that must have been so taxing for her.
When we heard the news, I had a sudden feeling of great loss, and I instantly had goosebumps on all my extremities. But why? What did this British Sovereign mean to me, when we once upon a time thumbed our noses and said NO MORE! Nae King, Nae Queen, Nae Laird, Nae Master! I think it is because we as humans are indeed herd animals who want a leader, we secretly want to have a royal that we can point to and say, there goes the best of us. Instead we have... lesser beings. But The Queen, she constantly showed the world what it meant to carry that weight of hopes, dreams and expectations, and do so with such Grace. I fear we shall never see her like again.
So, I poured a wee dram on the earth by our standing stones back in the Pictland guild yard in memory of Ken and Leslie Engle, the folks who gave us the dream that is SRF, and one for Elizabeth, who gave us Herself. And I hoped her spirit enjoyed it - she did so love things Scottish - and those darlin' Welsh doggies.
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