Disclaimer: Friendship is Magic belongs in the capable hooves of Lauren Faust & Co., The Doctor belongs to many people, unfortunately not including myself, and the use of Sexy as the TARDIS's name belongs to Neil Gaiman. Amd I missing anypony?
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This is my second year participating in the local "Winter Wrap-Up" ritual, a quaint and yet delightful process by which ponies coach nature into its next season.
A little more than a year ago, I would have thought that my merely making such a statement was an indicator of insanity. Past self, meet present self, who is your future self. How do ye do. Wibbly wobbley, timey wimey. There we go. Now that that's all settled—ahehem—back to business.
So. Apparently this world contains the capacity for what humans would refer to as magic—that is, some of the Equestrian aliens possess energy harnessing and directing capabilities within their bodies which are far beyond that which one would normally expect to meet in a run of the mill survey of the nearest galaxy in one's TARDIS. In spite of this, the citizens of the town in which I am presently residing, that is, Ponyville, have never used magic in their seasonal rotation ritual. Highly inefficient of them, but this pattern was established in memory of their founders, none of whom were magic users.
All of the local ponies are divided into groups by their skill sets. There are ponies to awaken hibernating animals, ponies to move clouds and summon migratory birds, ponies to slice up the ice over ponds, ponies to… well, I am sure that you get the picture. Anyway. This year and the last I was assigned to help clear away the snow from the farmlands, and plant seeds. I believe my designation came mainly because my current regeneration possesses a large, strong body, and because I'm not particularly good at anything else ponies in the Winter Wrap-Up are expected to do.
Agricultural duty is a surprisingly relaxing one. That is, I do end up with the muscles of my shoulders and haunches feeling exhausted by day's end, but at the same time it is delightful to be working so intimately with the earth, among these friendly, generous, naïve creatures. As I push my plow I am following in the hoofsteps of their ancestors—ancestors I think I may wish to meet someday. This world has a whole history to discover, every bit as complex as Earth's I imagine, and yet there are so few ponies here who study it! But that is a topic for another time. At the same time, I am doing work similar to that done long ago on that beloved retreat of mine, and probably also by the early progenitors of the Timelords back of Gallifrey. (Gallopfrey? What would Ponies call it?) It makes you think, doesn't it? A fellow can experience the past in the present, in a manner of speaking, even without travelling into it.
Anyway. I did say that this is my second year. My first year, the argumentative tendencies natural to most species got in the way of our finishing up their little ritual on time. The mayor was sorely disappointed. This year, things were managed beautifully in the end by a young magically talented newcomer, a filly prevented from using her most obvious natural strength by the local customs. She was wandering about most of the day botching things up, I hear, and she did cause a particularly nasty landslide for us in the snowplowing business. It turns out, though, the filly's got a natural talent for organization and a fine streak of leadership. This isn't the first time she's ended up saving the day. I'll definitely need to keep an eye on her. I'm beginning to believe that this "Twilight Sparkle" may be part of the reason why Sexy brought me here in the first place, as slow as my mission has been in revealing itself.
Anyhoof, I'd best be going, now. The natives are looking askance at the amount of time I've been spending in here journaling. Besides, who knows. Any second now something might come up. Something important. Something which shall probably be solved by Twilight & Co., but just wait and see, my turn will come.
Yours truly,
The Doctor
