Location:United Kingdom

An avid tea-drinker who likes nutmeg in her coffee and warm lavender-scented quilts. She knits, crochets and partakes in random acts of craftiness (and kindness). She likes obscure works of literature, philosophy and the idea that her mind exists separately from her body. She enjoys moving furniture around, literary criticism and baking bread. She writes haiku about nettles, would like to swim with seals and become completely self-sufficient. She writes as if her life depends on it, listens to beautiful music, and loves her darling husband Mr. VP.

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Wednesday 13 April 2011

Among the anemones in the fairy forest

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If you were to venture out into the Lincolnshire countryside at any point in April, you might well find a secluded, hidden wood which is full of beautiful, hidden secrets.

Amongst trees of pine and scrubby, young-ish broadleaves, there lies the land of the anemones.  Bright white anemones, carpet the floor of this fairy kingdom.

The fae, pixies, sprites and wood nymphs are playful creatures who inhabit a land somewhere in-between this world and another (so the stories go…). Visiting this wood as we did, in the depths of a quiet weekday afternoon, it is quite understandable how it might be possible for these little creatures to inhabit places like this. There’s a feeling…

I like the classical Greek idea that each place has its own set of nymphs. Sea nymphs, forest nymphs, moorland nymphs. I don’t think we’re ever as alone as we think we are, whether you believe in things like this or not… I am not sure I believe wholeheartedly, but I’d like it to be true.

The sad, severed trunks of ages-old pines lay in even sadder heaps.  Making way for new.  New what?  New progress?  New trees?  Who knows.  Aldo Leopold of A Sand County Almanac fame said that the trees on his land dated back to the American civil war, and when one fell after a violent storm, it was possible to see the history of that tree.  Through its rings, you could see the years of plenty and the years of little. Each ring a reminder, a visible link to the history of his farm. Just like these rings, they show years of great growth and years of slow growth. If only trees could talk…

Pixies or not, it was very magical.  Even better because I had my own pixie with me, in the form of my mother, who almost frolicked through the anemones.

I must have a little wood nymph in my blood.

One thought on “Among the anemones in the fairy forest

  1. Lisa says:

    This is a lovely post – I believe in naiads, dryads and nereids too, the lovely music (which I listened to with my eyes closed, it was sublime) evokes them perfectly. The photos are lovely too.

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