Your Humble Correspondent. Kin Kajuu, captured in a rare moment of repose. The lighting was excellent, the company suitably discreet, and the photographer possessed the good sense to recognize his subject’s better side. You are welcome.
Nightshade Tea: A Compliment, a Snub, and an Empty Perch
One lady takes offense. One owl takes liberties. One very important meeting has a suspiciously empty seat.
Greetings, my fellow nocturnal revelers! Kin Kajuu here, your indispensable guide to the Canopy’s more delicate social arrangements, where a careless remark can undo generations of standing and an empty branch can speak louder than an entire parliament of parrots.
The season has barely begun, and already we have material.
And I do mean material. I have been observing the Canopy’s social machinery for years, often at considerable personal inconvenience. My findings are rarely appreciated until the precise moment everyone needs them.
THE VELTS ARE SETTLING IN. OR ARE THEY?
The Velt family attended the opening gathering in full. Lady Aldara was composed, her daughters presented, and the seating arrangements described as having occurred quite naturally.
Naturally!
I should explain that seating arrangements do not occur naturally. Branches grow naturally. Seats are selected, occupied, vacated, defended, and remembered. Sometimes for generations. I have seen less contentious negotiations over food than over the right to sit beside it. Lady Aldara was placed where she could converse comfortably. Several attendees praised the thoughtfulness of the arrangement. Several others, who had not arranged it, appeared to find the thoughtfulness particularly interesting. Lady Skirrit watched Lady Aldara. Lady Aldara watched Lady Skirrit.
A Matter of Some Weight
Lady Skirrit has a way of making her opinions felt before she has troubled herself to express them. Saves time, I suppose.
Neither looked away first.
I do not wish to suggest that a contest was underway. I merely observe that both parties appeared thoroughly prepared for one.
TWO LADIES. TWO BRANCHES. ABSOLUTELY NO ONE IS WATCHING.
Branca Velt was impeccably turned out, though she wore the kerchief again. I had assumed the first appearance was an error. The second suggests either a declaration of allegiance or a level of confidence in one’s own judgment that I cannot recommend.
The Kerchief Incident
Branca Velt is wearing the kerchief again. I admire persistence, particularly when it persists in the face of all available evidence.
Teca Velt was present. I have previously been criticized for saying little about Teca, but a columnist must work with the evidence available to him. I cannot manufacture a personality simply because the public demands one. If Miss Velt wishes to be written about, she is welcome to provide something worth reporting.
Iara Velt, by contrast, appears to have arrived with an inexhaustible supply of enthusiasm. She was enchanted by the gathering and remained beyond the customary hour of departure.
This caused discussion.
Was she unaware of the hour? Had permission been granted? Had permission been requested? And if neither had occurred, was the young lady simply enjoying herself, or was she making a statement about the authority of the clock? I do not claim to know Iara’s intentions. I merely note that three separate creatures have now claimed to know them, and none agrees with the others.
Lulo Espinho was also present. The two spoke.
I am aware that speaking is not a declaration of attachment. I am equally aware that several attendees appeared to believe otherwise. I shall not be responsible for the conclusions of readers who confuse proximity with intimacy. My responsibility is to provide the facts, arrange them in a useful order, and allow the public to arrive at the conclusions it was clearly going to reach anyway.
A COMPLIMENT OF UNUSUAL CONSEQUENCE
The evening’s principal incident began with Owl M., who approached me looking entirely harmless. This is not, in itself, unusual. Some of the most consequential remarks in Canopy history have been delivered by creatures who looked as though they were about to ask for directions.
Owl M. remarked upon the Velt family’s arrival.
“Lady Aldara has a remarkable gift for settling anywhere,” he said. “It must be a comfort not to be particular about one’s branch.”
He smiled.
I took this to be praise. Adaptability is a virtue, after all. As a pollinator, officially, I have visited an impressive number of branches without demanding permanent occupancy. This has not prevented me from developing a distinguished professional reputation, although I do sometimes find pollen in places where it has no business being.
Lady Aldara had heard the remark.
“How fortunate,” she replied, “that some of us can distinguish hospitality from permission.”
The conversation nearest her stopped. A fruit bat abandoned a perfectly good piece of fruit halfway to its mouth. Someone else suddenly developed a deep interest in the architecture overhead. Lady Skirrit’s attention shifted to Owl M., and I can report that the shift was not subtle.
THE COMPLIMENT WAS FREE. THE CONSEQUENCES MAY NOT BE.
Now, to an uninformed observer, Owl M.’s remark might seem perfectly gracious. A gift for settling anywhere! How accommodating! How easy to welcome!
Unfortunately, the Canopy is not an uninformed observer. A creature who is not particular about a branch may be understood to have no particular claim upon one. The branch is not merely somewhere to sit. It may represent ancestry, territory, standing, and the right to object when someone else sits there. To praise a family for being comfortable anywhere can suggest that they belong nowhere in particular. This is a distinction Owl M. may or may not have intended to make. I am not in the business of assigning motives without evidence. I am, however, in the business of noticing that he looked pleased with himself afterward.
Lady Aldara did not raise her voice. She did not need to. Her response had the excellent quality of a remark that can be repeated accurately by everyone present and denied as an insult by no one.
Owl M. appeared to enjoy the exchange. This may indicate confidence, amusement, or an advanced indifference to the discomfort of others. I leave the diagnosis to more qualified observers, although I would be willing to undertake the investigation myself.
Lady Skirrit, meanwhile, had not resumed watching Lady Aldara.
Readers may draw their own conclusions. I have drawn several, but I do not wish to deprive anyone of the pleasure of catching up.
A Formidable Presence
Owl M. has perfected the art of looking as though someone has disappointed him. The identity of the offender appears to be immaterial.
THE D.H.C.: ONE OWL SHORT
And now, a matter of governance.
The Dark Hour Caucus convened earlier than usual this season. The gathering of owls, foxes, and bats is not an informal exchange of pleasantries. When these circles assemble together, matters affecting the Canopy’s order, security, and future are under consideration.
Owl D. was absent.
No announcement was made. No explanation was offered. The proceedings continued.
AN EMPTY PERCH IS STILL AN EMPTY PERCH.
I asked whether Owl D. had been expected.
“The meeting proceeded according to business,” I was told.
I asked whether his absence had been noted.
“The meeting proceeded according to business.”
I did not ask a third time. I am a professional, not a woodpecker.
Nevertheless, I find it interesting that a meeting can proceed according to business while the identity of the missing participant appears to have become a matter of extraordinary sensitivity. If the absence is inconsequential, why the repeated assurances? If it is consequential, why the assurances? I shall leave this question with the reader, who is perfectly capable of recognizing an unanswered question when one is presented in plain language. This is one of the reasons I write for an audience of such discernment. There has been a longstanding rivalry between Owls D. and M. Pride, ego, and an unfortunate tendency to regard personal disagreements as matters of institutional importance have all played their part. The foxes have previously exercised their celebrated diplomatic skills, with the Elder Fox in particular demonstrating that a well-timed observation can rescue a gathering from becoming a historical event.
Two bats, no answers.
No one knew anything. Everyone knew whom I meant.
The bats, I am told, were relieved on that occasion. I am not fluent in echolocation, but I do know relief when I hear it. Usually it sounds like a creature discovering that the conversation has moved on to someone else.
Whether Owl D.’s absence signals a renewed disagreement, a strategic repositioning, or something considerably more interesting remains to be seen. I will be watching.
I would like to emphasize that I am not suggesting a crisis. I am merely reporting an unusually early meeting, an absent owl, and several creatures who appear to have prepared their denials in advance.
These are different things.
A PERSONAL MATTER, BEST LEFT UNMENTIONED
Among my fellow kinkajous, there are those whose discretion I value and those whose discretion I must continually supervise. My dear cousin Tumulta falls, regrettably, into both categories.
My Dear Cousin Tumulta.
Tumulta has arrived. Nothing further can be ruled out. Family is a lifelong obligation. Some more eventful than others. She means well. I have witnesses. A kinkajou of many talents, most of them unlicensed.
Leon Cillo, also a kinkajou, falls into a category I prefer not to discuss. At one point during the evening, Tumulta informed me that she had seen Leon Cillo. I asked why she was telling me this. She said she thought I might like to know. I reminded her that she was not supposed to tell me that. She asked whether I was seriously suggesting that she should conceal the movements of an acquaintance. I explained that Leon Cillo was not simply an acquaintance.
He was Leon Cillo.
Tumulta said she understood.
She did not.
For the avoidance of doubt, Leon and I have known one another since childhood. We have a long history, which is not the same as having an ongoing disagreement. I do not hold grudges. I retain accurate memories of events that other individuals would apparently prefer to have forgotten, and I remain available to clarify the record.
Leon was present at the gathering. I saw him across the room. He appeared occupied elsewhere, and I saw no reason to interrupt him. He subsequently appeared occupied elsewhere on several additional occasions. I mention this only because the pattern was notable. I have no wish to suggest that Leon was avoiding me. I cannot speak to his intentions, and I would not presume to do so. I can only report that he managed to remain at a considerable distance throughout the evening, despite the gathering being of a size that made this achievement unnecessarily ambitious. I had every intention of greeting him, should the opportunity have arisen.
It did not.
Some people have a peculiar talent for turning a simple misunderstanding into a lifelong grievance. I find this unfortunate. Especially when the original facts are perfectly clear. The fruit was available. The berries were not touched. I have always considered this an important distinction.
I shall say no more on the matter.
BITE OF THE NIGHT
Nightshade Tea: The Opening Season Blend
A dark, full-bodied infusion with a sharp finish and a lingering aftertaste of unfinished business.
The initial notes are promising. Beneath them, however, lies a certain bitterness, suggestive of territory disputes, bruised dignity, and the sort of remark one repeats to a trusted friend while insisting it was of no consequence.
Pairs well with figs, preferably those whose ownership has been established beyond reasonable doubt.
Rating: 4 out of 5 stars.
One star withheld because the evening’s most interesting developments remain unresolved.
NIBBLE NOTE
A compliment is only a compliment if the recipient agrees.
NIGHT NOTES
The Dark Hour Caucus convened earlier than expected. Owl D. was absent. The official explanation remains that the meeting proceeded according to business.
Lady Skirrit and Lady Aldara were observed watching one another. Neither has issued a statement, which is probably wise.
Leon Cillo was seen at the opening gathering. He and Kin Kajuu did not speak. Both appeared to have found this entirely satisfactory.
NEXT WEEK…
A branch may be occupied by anyone, apparently. The question is what happens when the wrong creature decides it belongs to them.
You didn't hear it from me. (You absolutely did.)
KIN KAJUU
