Photo taken by me.
I’ve found that worthwhile things are always tucked away, hidden by a thick glaze of treetops, veiling itself from the people that know nothing of its existence. These places are often pure, untouched, and just as nature should be. As a child, I lived in a forest. To be fair, the correct term is ’woods’, but ’forest’ sounds far more mystical. But, all in all, it was a cluster of trees that went for miles until it ended abruptly by the twisting road, traveled by many that know nothing about the magic that lies within the woods they pass every day to work.
I believe the first time I truly appreciated the forest was when I was eight. My dog and I traveled the banks of the creek, wary of snakes, looking for a food dish she lost there a few days ago. We had searched under the flora that created a beautiful ring around the banks, searched behind the trees that twisted over the creek in an attempt to reach sunlight. We had had no luck looking downstream, so I decided that we look upstream. It didn’t make sense, but I was eight, and I was hopeful of magic and fairy dust. It was summer; the heavy air weighed itself upon my shoulders, as if it was telling us to turn back. The sun dried leaves of autumn’s past crunched beneath our feet as we crept further and further into the thick forest, disregarding time.
Light was shining down through the trees, making the little glories that lit our path. We’d been in the forest for a ridiculous amount of time before reaching a colossal stump. It was possibly eight or nine feet in diameter. The edges were worn, rounded, as if it was cut many years ago. It decided it was too old to keep worrying about its appearance, too old to keep fighting time. It had given in; it looked withered and forgotten, just as it wanted to be. It didn’t want anyone to see its defeated remains, seated in the middle of towering timbers, glaring down upon the crumpled remnants of the mightiest tree of its time.
I wiped a layer of moss away before perching myself upon it, inviting my dog to jump up and lay down next to me. The summer breeze carried scents of honeysuckle and wildflowers, and among less inviting scents, the nearby swamp. The sweet breeze was cool as it caressed my face. I lied down, completely content with everything around me. This was my sanctuary, my green and orange tinted retreat. My dog was getting impatient and begged to venture further into the wood. I decided to accept her request, grudgingly, mind you, and trailed behind her, further and further into the woods.
Eventually, we ended up at the creek. It was shining that day, little watery threads of light danced in the brown-green water. The crayfish jutted out of their rocky abode, the miniscule fish worked their daily routine and all seemed natural. A tree had fallen down a few years ago, making the perfect bridge to cross the shallow stream. Looking at the roots, however, I found a curtain of leaves that had a magical air about them. The earthen drapery would have gone unnoticed if I hadn’t been checking for slithering menaces on the forest floor.
Warily, I placed a finger on one of the leaves, pulling it back slowly, just in case a ravenous beast would pop out and bite my hand. Closing my eyes and turning my head away, I opened the little leaf door completely, revealing no animal. Nothing. I’m still not entirely sure as to what I saw behind that veil of green; because I’m sure what I remember seeing is false. The interior of that wooden home got mixed in with fact and fiction, lost in dreams, and missing in the deep forest we were wandering in, probably never to be untangled from the numerous occasions I tried to correctly remember.
With a feeling of guilty accomplishment, I believed I saw my first fairy house. Fairies were never really something I thought about, even at the ripe age of eight, but this made me think, for years and years if what I saw was true. To this day, I haven’t mustered up the courage to go check again; I’ve grown even more terrified of snakes as the years go on. But hopefully this summer, when the leaves turn the most natural shade of green, will I catch the warm breeze that led me to magic.
