I’m on vacation this week, but I still have a piece I’d like to share with you. No, it’s not another southern gothic book review or essay about Alabama, even though I’m enjoying a bit of Alabama summertime right now. It’s cozy and warm outside, and the cicadas are promising to sing me to sleep tonight. It’s a good time to be home, even if home ain’t always perfect.
Anyhow, I thought I’d share this bit with you tonight. It’s a little fable I cooked up for a project that didn’t get off the ground. On a night like this, when the moon is clear and bright and the nighttime smells like damp earth and magnolia flowers, I can’t help but imagine the werewolves howling….
“They say that somewhere, far away from the hum of civilization, lies a forest as old as the world itself. Within that forest is another realm, hidden away from outside realities. Those who enter that realm find a place without time or permanence, where ancient knowledge is whispered by the wind, and where the trees shudder with magic.
Travelers find themselves drawn to the center of the wood, where a great spirit is said to live. It is said that this wise spirit will bestow a blessing upon visitors, if only they manage to find it.
Many have tried, but most become enamored with the beauty of the forest. They move in circles and wander endlessly, never to return.
That, at least, is what the stories say.”