Once in a while now, a morning comes along with a clear sky and a memory of solace. Honeysuckle in bloom along the roadway tosses about in the breeze. Where they always so lush?
Late May is when the forest pixies emerge from under the owl’s wings to tiptoe along the mossy stones. The roots and rocks are worn down now. Trees close the path a bit now. Sapling oak has been fearless. Look how tall you have grown!
The little frog pond has swamped over the gravel path. Hoof prints of horses appear in the mucky soil. Oh! so are my shoes! Carry on, it’s been so long since we came back to this sacred space. A little wet foot won’t mind.
The path winds into young woods, past the busy brook spilling from the old mill pond. Settlement is long gone. Now deer, fox and rabbit tread here.
Up the hillside passing ferns grown gorgeous green. A light violet flowered wild geranium emerges to please the eye. Up and up to the top of the rise. Down and down sliding along the rocky way. Into the sacred groove.
The trail leads on. There is nothing ahead and nothing behind. All is wild. Tree limbs rub and creak above. Flies and gnats visit. Where are they? Once a year, the dear slippers are lost, left clinging onto a shoe rest waiting for the owner to return.
I suppose, to the ordinary eye it looks like pink lady slipper in bloom. Others of us know she passed this way, She was here dancing under the starry sky with her band. The sprites wear the finest silk slippers. So light are they with princess feet almost floating above the ground.
The May dance is almost over. Glad am I to return to these noble woods. My oldest and best friend. How much was left behind here! How much solace has been found along the trail. So much has changed. I got distracted by music, travel, a home and horses. Nothing has changed. Oh there’s more grass on the trail I suppose. Not many feet pass this way?
A day of delight. Walking along with a stout stick to help the old legs get along. We brought no gift. We took nothing out except happiness. The unknown sorrow of many a long night left in this place. The reassuring solace of woodland ways
Blessings, to see lady slipper in bloom A most rare and beautiful day.
LuceStellare 