Lately, as I’ve been going on more walking adventures into the woods, I’ve felt more receptive to the energy that they put out. The less I overthink it, the easier the messages are received. Pretty cool stuff. I feel a more personal connection with Water, but my dominant element on my chart is Earth, and that is making itself more apparent every time I go outside… in interesting ways.
That being said, I am no stranger to an unfriendly forest. A couple of months ago, me and Karson wandered onto a trail despite the high chance of rain, and upon entrance felt immediately unwelcome. “The trail feels different than before,” I remember saying. Strange powers were at work. The entrance felt like some kind of portal. We decided to leave.
Within minutes of leaving, the grey sky finally let loose a downpour over the area. Of course, we were willing away the rain in hopes of getting in some nature time that day. But the forest was thirsty. We concluded that it was angry at us for not letting it drink.
But, a few days ago, we encountered something entirely different. He and I returned to a trail we hadn’t been to in months, since the air was cold and owls called during the day. Spring is everywhere, now, and bold. Before we even walked in, I remember saying “The fairy population is high, today,” and made the crucial mistake of not turning back right then.
Woodland fairies are conniving and sly. A few minutes in, we saw two young cardinals squeaking and squawking their way around the path, mid-tussle. I stopped to watch. They even tumbled across the way in front of us. I laughed and we kept going. Karson made note of the decent amount of cars and the lack of other walkers on the trail. I didn’t give it any thought.
We got to the back of the trail and crossed the creek, and saw some camping set up with no one to be seen. Strange, again. The forest was bright with sunshine, and hot, but it was not warm. There were a couple of dragonflies buzzing in circles around the lake, and I told Karson about them being my Aunt Sue’s good luck charm. I always think of her and her elaborate back tattoo when I see them. He informed me that they bite.
We made it to the very back of the trail, maybe a mile or so in, when the number of insects knocking into me became more than the South Texas usual. Karson told me it was a horsefly, and I felt rather cartoonish in the way I jumped into the air and ran off like a frightened baby deer. But way less graceful. In hindsight, I’m sure the fairies were laughing at me, and continued to laugh as I sprinted on and off for three-quarters of a mile back to safety.
Karson managed to start squashing them after he told me to stop running, but it felt like nothing less than survival mission in a foreign wasteland at that point. The enemy was small, fast, flying, and blood thirsty. His Hyundai Santa Fe seemed to be spotlighted like some symbol of salvation when we made it back to the entrance. My adrenaline levels didn’t return to normal until halfway through our Thai lunch.
It’s probably past time to start listening to my intuition much more closely. But I don’t think I’ll forget what fairy energy feels like. Well… fairies, or forest spirits that take tiny, mischievous forms. I’ll let you decide the terminology on this one.