>> Raul Nesta Renaud
As if out of nowhere, a mystical herb spiral sprung from the ground within Springridge Commons last week. Bewildered Fernwoodians questioned about the mysterious event could only proffer vague befuddled hypothesis as to how a herb spiral could arise from the terra. One scarlet-eyed gentleman insisted it was the work of none other than the hippy grand wizard Sage Riverwind and his companion Guru Shrivastav Shasta, siphoning all the energy garnered in the Haight-Ashbury neighbourhood during the 1967 Summer of Love into a flavour enhancing, hippy energy infused herb spiral.
Although this theory clearly holds intellectual merit, my journalistic integrity has never been served by listening to people so serious. In these dark days of Harper in the year of our lord twenty hundred and eleven, only the weirdest explanation can satisfy this enquiry. After many late nights, litres of strong coffee and endlessly barking into the bottom end of my telephone, I had hit an impasse. My journalistic credentials in ruins, having been overused and inflated, I had but two choices. Flee the city in a frenzied drive to Nanaimo and tell my editor I had left to cover an important lead about Guru Shrivastav Shasta having been spotted hobb-nobbing his way around the Nanaimo elites, or, persevere and find new, real and credible leads.
Dejected and with a mounting headache due to the ingestion of large quantities of Hemp Vodka the night before, I walked into Springridge Commons still bitter and venomous with my decision to stay with this story. That morning however, my perseverance paid dividends. Within the Commons I witnessed two drones, mindlessly and methodically placing stones around one of the more disused and dilapidated beds. I asked them what they were up to; the female drone replied enthusiastically that they were defining the bed to make way for a vibrant bee garden. I pushed further asking them why they were here. The tall male drone replied that they had been sent to enhance the garden and that there were more projects planned for the coming weeks. Then in unison, they elicited me to volunteer in the garden, explaining that details of future projects and when to come throw down would be posted around the Commons.
My attempts to question the two led nowhere; clearly the two having been well brainwashed and reprogrammed by the Hippy Grand Wizard Sage Riverwind, would be of no help in my story. However, with my journalistic professionalism being called into question, I will continue to faithfully pursue this story until its conclusion.