Fading Memories - An Analogy
As a witch I feel very much at home walking through the wilds of the woods rather then being caught up in the hustle and bustle of what artificially passes for life. I say “artificial” because at one time we humans were as one with our surroundings.
We held a deep respect for all of the wonders of nature. And we conducted our lives accordingly.
We watched in awe as flocks of birds winged overhead through pristine skies tinged with wisps of lingering clouds.
We shook with respect and fear when the skies opened up and flashes of lightening preceded by thunder woke us out of a deep slumber.
We laughed silently to ourselves as the burbling of a brook went merrily on its way. We pondered the merits of life as we connected with the many different species of Mother Earth. For as pagans we did not hold ourselves as being superior to other life forms. Instead we embraced each as an integral and equal part of our world.
We sought out the mysteries of the many herbs and flowers growing throughout the land.
The Magick of life was an innate reality. There were no naysayer’s as one so frequently encounters in today’s world.
In short we lived as we were, children of the Gods.
Was this an idyllic world?
Of course not for life on earth was not meant to be an earthly paradise. But it was a life that was realistic. It was a setting where all aspects of life were connected.
These days I walk through the woods as a shadow of what once was. I hear the deep sigh of the dryads as a tear rolls down my cheek.
My silent cries of despair are carried away by the subtle twists and turns of a passing breeze.
I feel the pain of Mother Earth as she groans with anguish. For somewhere man has destroyed yet another patch of noble trees. Gentle creatures, that provides food and shelter to so many denizens of the forest. Silent witnesses of what went before and what now is.
I ache with the knowledge that the Undines now wander about on what are bodies of water swollen with the detritus of pollution.
My heart goes out to the Sylphs who now glide about on currents of air now tinged with particles of smog. Such is a toxic invader which is reinforced daily with a steady output from towering smokestacks of vile brew. Even the Salamanders of fire and the Gnomes of the earth are not unscathed. For they have to endure the toxic wastes dumped daily by man into their home.
As I wonder about the forest I can hear the last strains of joyous music as the elves and faeries circle about an old witch.
Alas, the music is becoming harder and harder to hear. And so I have wonder with anxiety growing in my heart, how much longer will they stay and sing their magickal songs. For the day will come when they will do to humankind as man has done to them, turning their backs and leaving man to his own destructive whims.
It is with deep regret that my walk has come to an end for this day. For will there be a tomorrow?
And so as I near the edge of the forest I turn and look back for this may be but a memory on the morrow. Far off in the distance is the sound of chain saws. Such a distraction is a sure sign that man is on his way to this special place.
And yet in spite of these heartaches, I am at peace with the knowledge that a simple witch can always find the door to their realm. And as such, this witch will always be welcome to their home.
And so with that I turn and walk away with a sad smile and a memory that humankind cannot tarnish despite all it’s meddling in life…