A long way to go for lavender

The air is becoming chilled, and still I have not seen a sign of the one who left me the note. Surely they- who-have-lavender be not as far as this! But I have their note, and I have taken with me my little glowbug for her light and quiet company. The wind makes whispers in the tall grasses. The stars are out, and methinks I see the constellation Copernicus.

Me hopes I find the purveyor of lavender soon. The pimples on my buttocks are boiling with the sensation of Lurkers and Watchers.