It's February; almost Valentine's Day.
The day is clear and cool in the valley.
But up on the ridge, it's misty, and mystical.
I plan a walk with a friend, although I often go alone.
Into the woods I'll go; always there,
There are friends that greet me.
Soothing trees. Rich, green moss. Open-hearted Mother.
Lots of Faery Folk, helping spirits, and wood nymphs.
And mushrooms. My little guiding friends.
Mushrooms with their crazy colors and happy demeanor,
Doing their work of breaking things down.
Time and again I start off along a trail, and am pulled aside by one of this colorful characters.
They lead me away from the beaten path, and into the woods, to surprising riches and secret treasures.
Today, my friend is late. I will be alone for a while.
I choose to explore down a trail as I wait for company.
And, lo, I am already not alone.
The Faery Folk are delighted to see me,
Peeking out from behind moss-covered stumps.
Riding the mist between the pine boughs and needles,
Their sheer joy and enthusiasm and acrobatics fill me with wonder.
And I walk along the trail some more.
And they catch my eye,
My little guides.
I follow one, off the trail, in my usual way,
Expecting a surprise, glee filling me like a child
(but never disappointed by what I find;
a child can always find treasure).
And there – in the distance, just there...
I go to investigate.
It is almost Valentines Day.
My lovely, loving spouse deserves a special gift.
And here it is...
The mushrooms and the Faery Folk say,
“Happy Valentine's Day,”
They would love to meet her, they say.
I will let her know.