My World

entering this shadowed world
alone, not lonely
lost, yet found

many fear to come alone.
many, to come, at all.

She seeks this solitude. For, it isn't nature that is to be feared.  There are no hidden motives to be wary of here. The rocky precipice, one understands, is to be carefully, crossed. Unlike the jungle of the world, where you're left, never knowing where the danger may lie.  Nature doesn't take. It, only, gives. The gifts, it offers are abundant. Silence heard, in the wind through treetops, is laden with its spirit. Stillness, found in the movement, of the trembling leaf. The safe haven found in the forest, on the mountain... always welcoming.

Hearing movement through the trees, path side, she slows to search, seeing nothing. Only a spider, explores the trail with her. She makes her way carefully around it, so as not to disturb it. This creature intends no harm. 

With the setting sun, the forest has dimmed. She pauses beneath a tree to absorb the delicate hues of nature that surround her. Leaning her back against its rough bark, she lifts her face. What's left of the evening sky, peeks through dark leaves. The mountain melody, so gentle. The hum of crickets, call of birds, the murmur of the distant river. The peace flows into her heart. 

tilts her head, listens to night songs, shadows serenade, smiles softly, lowers her gaze, walks away

Spirit of a Warrior

Stepping onto the forest trail, she looks back to see if anyone has noticed her slipping away, into the dusk.  Aiyana knows she is expected to stay in the village, this evening. She is aware of the duties expected of her by the tribe. Too much time has passed, since she had visited the trails of her mountains, alone. 

Her tribe feels the mountains trails are no place for her to be. "Leave the wilderness to the braves. Their strength is better suited for it."  Yet, strength was her destiny. Born to a warrior, a warrior with no sons; she has been allowed to run free. She lives, as she was named, Aiyana, the "ever blossoming".

Always, she had broken the mold, cast for her. The tribe calls her strange. As a child, she was often found in the forest, alone. To find her, they must summons her from the treetops. She would never be a proper squaw. Of this, she was sure. 

As she walks the trail, she looks to her side, where crystal waters flow. Her spirit is mindful of their healing powers. She will always be drawn to the waters. Their healing powers cleanse her embattled spirit.

She stands by the waters, thinking of her past. Taken as a young bride, she had dutifully and proudly fulfilled her role.  Once, he had been proud to call her his own. Yet, he could never learn to tame her spirit. Unaccepting of her ways, he cast her aside for another . She returned to the spirit of the mountains for healing. The sloping hills and rising peaks were her family. The forest animals, her brothers and sisters.

Always, she has sought solace here. Stopping, she breathes the scent of the earth. Tilting her head, she views the same treetops that she loved to climb, as a child. They seem to reach to the heavens, brushing the skies. The farther she moves into the shadows, the more she awakens.

Back at the village, they would be searching for her. She knows that most will be thinking, "Foolish girl has wandered off, again. Why isn't she with us, preparing a meal?"  

Yet, she knows, there is one. The brave who understands her fascination with these mountains. He will know where she has gone. She has gone to heal her spirit. It is their shared understanding, of that safe place, that created their bond. Her safe place where she is allowed to, simply, be... "ever blossoming". He is glad that she has the spirit of a warrior, defying the steadfast ways of the tribe. She cherishes his words, "You are as a butterfly. You cannot be held too tightly or your spirit will be crushed". She carries his quiet strength with her, as she moves through the forest. She is thankful, for that safe place, found in his heart.

Again, she stops. As still as she can be, in the growing darkness. The only movement, is that, of the tremble of the leaves. Closing her eyes, she listens to the silence. In this silence, Aiyana becomes one with Mother Earth. 

Once more, she has renewed her spirit. 

The spirit of a warrior.

Into the Grey

Hesitantly, I choose to go into the mountains. Has too much time passed, since I last visited? Will they welcome me, as before? Will my love be evident? Will my love be returned?  Will I, still, hear the whispers of the Smokies?   

Will I feel the peace, once found there?  

The affinity with grey skies, shimmering drops of rain, the chill in the air and solitude of trails on days such as this, still remains. 

I approach the trail. With the first step onto a carpet of wet leaves, I am immersed in a different world. A grey world, a world where the only sound is that of the falling rain. A world where the falling rain creates a mist which wraps itself around me, as I move. 

I slip the hood from around my face; to sense the presence of the mountain, to feel the healing, to listen to the silence.

With a glance around, I realize that the rain has become ice. I tilt my head to taste winter's first gift. Snowflakes gather on lashes. Sparkling ~ I am gazing through fields of diamonds. I move through veils of white. Thinking of those close to me, who love winter's gifts, as much as I. 

I, slowly, walk the trails. Moving from one path to another, I pause. I stand, watching the snowflakes alight, silently. In pausing, I notice layers of snow beginning to collect on leaves, tree limbs and the trail. 

My clothes are dampened. First the rain, now snow melted by my warmth have become a crystal flow down my cheek, I understand it is time to go. 

I breathe the peace, one last time.  Whispering, 'Thank you'  for, once again, accepting my love. I turn and walk into the grey.

The Journey

I choose the trail carefully for the day's walk. Completely sure that I'll be alone, for solitude in nature is often necessary for me. I begin, assured of my way and set off through the woods for the short walk to the trail. This trail is more dangerous than others I travel. For now, I have more to lose. The vulnerabilities from the past put me in the way of greater harm.

After a time, I realize that the mountain's whispers of encouragement have stopped. I pause and look around, convinced I'm in the right place, but the trail has faded. Again, I hear the voice of the Smoky Mountains. The whispers have grown urgent, "Turn around.... now." For once, I ignore the whispers. Instead, I follow past trails, faint outlines, old ways.. believing the results will be the same .This land will not force me to do as I should, but gives warning signs all around -The trail was more worn than this- This isn't the direction you were headed in on the previous hike-

At last, I pay attention to what the Smokies are telling me. I know distractions have caused me to veer off the course that I set out on. I turn and carefully make my way back. I leave the area I am in. With the guidance of the mountain, I reach the trail that I entered this wilderness for. I head down the path, this time paying much more attention to my surroundings.

I've regained the respect for the dangers that are held, along with the beauty, in this wonderful place. These mountains have no intention of harm, but with a single moment of disrespect... disasters can happen.

I come upon a fork in the trail. I know what one way holds... a easy walk, safety. The other.. a harder journey, greater risks and hazards. I take my choices into consideration. The path of least resistance or the way that I know will be much more treacherous. Following my heart, I choose the harder trail. This trail is steeper, harsh, strewn with roots and boulders. The path is lined with a rock wall to my right and a drop to my left. The twists and turns on the trail take me higher and higher. The fatigue begins to set in.

I reach three small waterways I must ford. This time, the mountains whispers encourage me forward. They know that I'm taking more time, treating them with the care that had been lacking in my actions recently. I've now entered areas of extreme danger, where a misstep could result in a horrible fall. Some spots have become so dark, so dim, that even the air carries the scent of danger. I continue.. knowing that with my carefulness, the dangers are worth what awaits me. I move ahead, but not before I take time to absorb the beauty that is already evident. The delicacy of lavender flower petals, the dim of the air, the glint of waters far below... all promises of rewards.

Others have entered the heart of this land for many different reasons, but none have ever entered with the such love, such a connection. These experiences in the mountains are mine alone. The magic that exists between the Smoky Mountains and myself move me in ways that I thought were impossible.

Still, I'm aware of the hazards. Eerie sounds from the woods grab my attention. I understand what they may be and proceed with caution. I am amazed that danger and serenity coexist here. Such, are some of the greatest experiences in life. My faith lies in what awaits me.

I am sure, now, that the mistakes made at the beginning of this journey will not happen again, as long as I treat the mountains with the respect owed them. I know, to where I turn when problems become greater than I can bear. To these mountains, I run. The comfort is ever present.
The whispers heard, the caress of gentle breezes on my cheek, the care, are for me, only.

At last, I reach my destination, the end of this awesome, yet dangerous trek. I have been rewarded for my new found understanding of this beautiful land. The beauty, the solace that I sought, have been found. The love returned ~ The journey was worth it all ~

The Secret Garden Revisited

I choose the Secret Garden. A place with such meaning, a sacred place, a healing place. A place visited by my shadow and I.

Reserved in my heart for special times such as these, I haven't visited since winter. Now, wild and untamed, the undergrowth crowds close to the trail. I may pass a bear within inches, yet never know.

I make my way to the stream, the same stream that my shadow held my hand as I crossed. The water is so low this time, I am able to make it across easily, stone by stone. No need for my shadow's guidance this time.

The trail has become little more than a footpath. The contrast of the red leaf upon gray trees... now gone. The labyrinth of limbs has become one of jade. I make my way through this labyrinth and down the steep path, where my shadow and I had moved carefully.

I reach the place, where the creek I'm walking beside splits, rushing down either side of me. I find the rock and take a seat. As the water spills by, I study the currents. These waters still hold the same mystery.

I am spellbound by the spirit of this place. This fork in the stream, this rock I on which I sit, even the tree at water's edge holds meaning. The solace from times gone by washes over me as water does over the stones nearby.

I am flooded with memories, while living in this moment. Pleasure fills my thoughts, surety fills my mind, sacred times flood my heart.

I lose myself in my surroundings. I am alone in this beautiful land, yet I am not alone. For my shadow, once again, is with me.

Rising to leave, my heart is full. My shadow and I .. no longer closer than ever before because now... We are one.

My Shadow

~ This is a walk taken during the winter at my Secret Garden in the Smoky Mountains. At the time this walk was given by tweet. I would, once again, like to share this special time ~



~ My shadow is the only one to walk with me ~

~ My shadow looks closely as I point out the labyrinth of tangled tree limbs profiled against the sky ~

~ My shadow worries as blood trickles down my arm where caught on briars moments before~

~ My shadow and I appreciate the contrast of a red leaf against gray trees ~

~ My shadow holds my hand as I find a way across the rain swollen creek ~

~ My shadow and I share a rock where the creek splits into separate branches ~

~ My shadow listens as I explain the mystery clear pools of water hold for me~

~ My shadow watches as I run fingertips through the water, enjoying the silk like smoothness~

~ My shadow and I meld into one, in the dim shade of the trees ~

~ My shadow is pleased at the beauty and the vision I shared today ~

~ My shadow and I leave the woods closer than ever before ~

The Ghost Remains

As night closes in, the call of the mountains begins in earnest and she responds. As she nears, the whispers begin. The lands hear her. In hushed tones, they reply, "Yes, we await". The skies darken, once again, replicating her mood.

They prepare for her arrival. With the first step, the rainfall begins. Soon, her skin is dampened. She moves forward knowing they have, once again, read her heart. As the rain intensifies, clothes become soaked. The physical melts away and only the ghost remains.

~ Alone again ~ she accepts ~ for solitude is ~ when she is at her best ~

The ghost floats through the low light as mist swirls about. The dark embrace of the mountain holds her close. It's spirit caresses her soul. It's voice, speaking through the roll of thunder, hugs the curves of the land and touches deep within.

With each move, darkness closes in. Moving forward into places most would not dare go, the ghost believes the spirit would allow no harm to come. For it is part of her. She understands it and it her.

Adrift, in this darkness, all others have departed. Only the spirit of the mountain remains. The ghost accepts this truth.

The spirit speaks to the ghost, whispering, "Courage now." The ghost hears, yet remains silent. No words are needed, for the spirit and the ghost are intertwined. They are one.

They are her strength. Understanding this, she lets go and disappears into the dark.