The Poetry Of The Layers
Maud Pie sorted the samples on her display table. She’d been doing it for quite a while, and she wasn’t getting any closer to being satisfied.
It was the annual Ponyville Trade Fair, and Maud was tending the Pie Family Rock Farm booth. She had offered to take over the booth so her younger sisters could tour the fair’s other exhibits, and get a bit of lunch. Limestone and Marble Pie had readily agreed, mainly because they knew the best way to make Maud happy was to leave her alone with the rocks.
A perfect display table would be a nice gift for her little sisters, but Maud just wasn’t going to get everything right before the girls returned. It was hard. So very hard.
The best samples needed to be at the front of the table where they could catch a passing pony’s eye. Unfortunately, this required Maud to pick her favorites. Every time she thought she had picked the best rocks for the front row she found fine, deserving samples shuffled to the back. This forced Maud to sort the samples again.
All of the rocks were wonderful. Picking favorites was hard. So very hard.
Maud looked up from her work and startled a customer.
“Oh...um...hello,” said the little grey filly. “I was hoping to find Miss Marble and Miss Limestone.”
“They’re not here.”
“Um...yes...I see.”
Maud had difficulty judging the unicorn filly’s age because the girl was so small. But even if she was just deceptively short and skinny Maud guessed she was still very young. Then again, Maud measured time on a geological scale, so all ponies seemed young to her.
“I met the Pie sisters at the Manehattan Fair last summer, and I hoped to see them again,” continued the filly. “To...say hello.”
“They’re not here,” Maud repeated.
“Um...yes. As you said.”
Maud stared.
“I beg your pardon, but are you Miss Maud Pie, Ma’am?”
Maud nodded.
“Miss Pinkie spoke of you. She seems to think we have much in common.”
Maud stared.
There was something familiar about her voice. Maud wasn’t a big fan of recording devices and had never heard her own voice, so it took Maud a moment to realize what it was. The Little unicorn sounded just like Maud. She wasn’t being mocking, this was genuinely the way she spoke.
Two other things were evident to Maud. Just holding up her side of the conversation, let alone her’s and Maud’s, made the little one very uncomfortable. Maud couldn’t help her with that.
But the filly also did not want to leave the booth.
“You like our rocks,” said Maud.
“Oh, yes, very much,” the filly answered, even though Maud hadn’t actually made it a question. “They are excellent specimens. It pleases me to see the Pie Farm continues to produce such outstanding wares.”
“We’re having a good season.”
The filly had relaxed considerably, and Maud believed she knew why. Maud recognized this as relief that the conversation had turned to geology. Maud certainly knew that feeling, though she didn’t experience it often.
“I appreciate how you have sorted your samples. It begins at one end with sedimentary rocks. Then the igneous, followed by the metamorphics. It reflects the rock cycle. I particularly like how you have another column of sedimentary rocks at the far end. Because after the rocks have formed wind and rain begin to erode them, creating new beds of sediments to one day become new rocks. The cycle goes on and on.”
Maud stared at her.
Maud blinked.
Finally, Maud stated, “You’re Quizzical Greystone.”
The filly started with surprise. She had probably never been recognized before. “Why, yes, I am.”
“Pinkie really likes you.”
“I...yes. And I have grown very fond of Miss Pinkie.”
“I’m a big fan of your poetry,” said Maud.
“I beg you pardon, Miss Maud?”
“Your poetry. I love it.”
“I do apologize, Ma’am, but at least one of us is terribly confused.”
Maud reached under the display table and brought out a magazine. Quiz recognized it, this was the latest issue of the Journal of the Royal Equestrian Geological Society. Maud set it on the table and it automatically fell open to an article on the formation of rocky outcrops - ‘Sedimentation and Uplift in the Everfree Forest’ by Quizzical Greystone.
“Poetry,” said Maud.
“But Ma’am, this is a scholarly article in a peer reviewed scientific journal.”
“Poetry,” Maud repeated.
“Most ponies find works such as this barely readable.”
“Poetry.” Something in Maud’s complete lack of expression or inflection made it clear that she would not be argued with.
“Um...well...thank you, Miss Maud.”
Maud learned over the table and whispered to Quiz. “You understand. You can look at a rock face and see more than the rocks. You see the ages it took for falling sediments to make each layer, and the ages it took for them to petrify. You see the forces that lifted, folded, and broke them. You can almost feel the heat and the pressure that metamorphosed the layers in their beds. You can see it all in your imagination.”
After a long silence, Quiz gave the only answer she could.
“Yes.”
“Poetry,” said Maud. “You are the youngest pony to get an article published in the Journal.”
“Well...not exactly,” said Quiz, evasively. “I know of one article by a filly who was younger than myself…”
“Yes. You,” said Maud. “Your first article. Three years ago.”
“Oh. Yes, of course, I should have expected you would know of that.” Quiz blushed at being found out.
“‘Metamorphosis of Limestone Beds - The Marble Formations Of Canterlot.’”
“I remember it well,” admitted Quiz. She went on, wistfully, “It was good fun. But my graphs were several percentage points out of proportion, and one of my tables was crooked. A reasonably good first effort, I suppose.”
“Poetry,” stated Maud. “And the crooked table was the printer’s fault. It was extraordinary work for a pony of any age. You were never honored for your achievement. That’s not fair.”
“Oh, I hardly think so,” said Quiz, dismissively. “The Journal does not keep records of author’s ages. It is not a contest.”
Maud stared at her. “Pinkie told me you were modest to a fault. That’s too bad.”
“Oh, dear, I do not believe I would call it a ‘fault’ as such…”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” said Maud. “That’s also too bad.”
Quiz could think of nothing to say, so she didn’t respond.
Maud found a quill and pushed it and the magazine towards Quiz. “Can I have your autograph?”
Quiz blushed an even brighter shade than before. “Oh, dear...I...well...if you really think you want it…”
Maud nodded.
Quiz took the quill. “Do I just sign my name, or should I write something? I have never done this before.”
“I don’t know. I’ve never asked for an autograph before.”
Quiz wrote, ‘Thank you for reading’ then signed her name under the article’s title.
“Boulder, come out and meet Miss Quizzical.” Maud drew something out of her pocket and set it on the table. It was a small, black stone. Quiz realized that it was to this stone that Maud had spoken. This realization did nothing to dispel her confusion.
“This is Boulder, he’s my pet rock,” said Maud.
“Oh, well...um...hello, Boulder?” Quiz squinted at the stone. “He...is quite handsome. The natural fracture line brings him to a nice point, yet he is not sharp. This is not wind or water erosion….”
“Wear, mostly from being in my pocket.”
“It does give him a nice polish,” noted Quiz. “I also have a pet named Boulder. He is now in the care of my little sister. When last I saw him he had hardly moved from the spot in our garden where I left him.”
“What is he? Igneous? Metamorphic?”
“He is a tortoise.”
“Oh.”
Maud gently stroked the top of her pet rock, then put him back in her pocket. “You aren’t the same as Pinkie described you, Quizzical. You’re very expressive.”
“Oh, dear. I do not believe I know a single pony who would agree with you.” Maud thought Quiz sounded amused by the idea. “However, this is something I have been working on.”
“Why?”
Quiz had to ponder this for a moment. “It is a fair question. Change is not for every pony, of course. But for myself...it came as a surprise, but I am discovering that there are things I know that I wish to share with others. This is easier to do when your voice is not an unpleasant drone. Oh, dear, that last might have sounded like an insult.”
“No offense meant, none taken,” said Maud. “Change isn’t something I need. But it might be the thing for you. I see what you mean by wanting to share. Pinkie says that you are a story-teller, and that you should become a teacher.”
“Does she, now? Your sister is given to exaggeration, Miss Maud. Frankly, this is something I continue to be uncertain of.”
“Don’t be. Pinkie is usually right. I already know you’re a poet.” Maud actually smirked. “Do you also like puns?”
Quiz reached out and tapped one of the metamorphic rocks. “I think they are gneiss.”
Maud tapped the sample next to the one Quiz had selected. “Shale we?”
“Of quartz.”
“I would hate to become an intrusion. You would find me in fault.”
“So it seams.”
This continued for some time.
Most ponies over hearing the exchange would think the two grey little ponies were just droning at each other about nothing. There faint smiles were only detectable in the best of lighting conditions. But if you truly knew this pair, if you were among their best friends, you might have an idea of what a wonderful time their were having.
"We may have to stop. The quality of the puns is eroding," said Maud.
“Are you saying ‘no Mohs’?”
“It’s hard.”
Both ponies grinned. As far as they were concerned, they might as well have been laughing out loud.
“Maud! Quizzical!” Pinkie Pie appeared out of apparently nowhere, and enveloped the two ponies in a crushing hug. “I just knew my BSBF and my newest little best friend would hit it off! Maud, isn't Quizzical the cutest thing?! Quizzical, don’t you just love Maud?!”
“Yes,” said Quiz and Maud together.
The youngest Pie sisters arrived just behind Pinkie. Marble whispered to Limestone, “I told you they would bond. Pay up.”
Limestone passed her sister a bit. “I thought it was opposites that attract. Maud, we’re sorry we’re late, we got side tracked at the Bon Bon’s Sweets booth. That’s all Pinkie’s fault. You’ll have to hurry to catch your train.”
Maud looked up and squinted at the clock tower. “I lost track of time.”
“That may happen when one is having fun,” said Quiz. “Or so I have been told.”
“I still have time, but I must leave now,” said Maud. “Quizzical, it has been good to meet you.”
“It has been a delight for me as well, Miss Maud. Will you visit Ponyville again, soon?”
Maud shook her head. “I’m heading out west to study the rock formations, and I will be away for a long time. Eutaw County has many fine buttes.”
“I do like buttes. They may be my favorite landform.” Quiz looked thoughtful. “I would like to send you away with a parting quip. Sadly, the word ‘buttes’ suggests nothing funny to me.”
“I prefer mesas,” said Maud. “They are the highest form of flattery.”
With that, the two new friends parted company.
Author's Note
I stole the mesa pun from Zaphod. As for the rest of the puns, I apologize.
Thank you for reading.
