Apr 6, 2024 5:01:07 GMT
Chance is powerful
Let your hook be always cast; in the pool where you least expect it, there will be a fish.- Ovid
Serenity loved the Woods. While the trees were different from the ones in their forest in West Virginia, they still gave her that feeling of home, the feeling of belonging. Sure, that would sound weird to anyone, if she actually said the words out loud, but that was how she felt when she was surrounded by nature. This place also made her miss her cat.
It was early evening when she parked her car in a parking area a short distance from the woods. Stepping out of the car, she opened the back door and took her deep blue velvet cloak from the seat and swung it over her shoulders, clasping it at her neck, and then lifted a wicker basket from the seat that held her boline (harvesting knife), some empty jars and bags. Closing the door, she locked the car, and headed into the wood, where she took her shoes off and tucked them into her basket.
Following an old animal track, she wound through the trees, letting her sense guide her, more than knowing where she was going. She loved the legend of the woods. Not only did it make the place feel more like home, but it gave the place its own kind of magic, and that's what kept drawing her back.
Eventually, the path she was following came out in a small clearing, large enough to call it a clearing, but small enough that it would go unnoticed to large groups of people, and a large, flat, moss covered rock in the middle would serve as the perfect altar, should there be a circle here who wanted to use it. With a smile, she walked across the clearing and placed her basket on the rock, just looking around the beautiful area. It was amazing what one found when they weren't actually looking.
It was early evening when she parked her car in a parking area a short distance from the woods. Stepping out of the car, she opened the back door and took her deep blue velvet cloak from the seat and swung it over her shoulders, clasping it at her neck, and then lifted a wicker basket from the seat that held her boline (harvesting knife), some empty jars and bags. Closing the door, she locked the car, and headed into the wood, where she took her shoes off and tucked them into her basket.
Following an old animal track, she wound through the trees, letting her sense guide her, more than knowing where she was going. She loved the legend of the woods. Not only did it make the place feel more like home, but it gave the place its own kind of magic, and that's what kept drawing her back.
Eventually, the path she was following came out in a small clearing, large enough to call it a clearing, but small enough that it would go unnoticed to large groups of people, and a large, flat, moss covered rock in the middle would serve as the perfect altar, should there be a circle here who wanted to use it. With a smile, she walked across the clearing and placed her basket on the rock, just looking around the beautiful area. It was amazing what one found when they weren't actually looking.
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