Somewhere Between: A Beacon to/from the Future
“Where’s next on your list?” The question rang out in me like a resonant bell. I stood for a moment, slightly dumbfounded. “I think I’d like to settle down in the hills,” I replied somewhat dreamily. “Maybe move from being in constant motion to a mad habitatter.” My friend stared at me with the same, slightly dumbfounded look.
I have competing dreams and desires, unsure of where exactly to go next. I find myself in a situation that’s fine, but I’m missing some big things in my life. Do I stay where I am and continue to deepen my relationships with what I already have? Or should I take a risk and move away from what I know to warmer climes and less snowy pastures? I sway between both options every day, never fully committing to either and mostly coasting through my existence.
Throughout the Great Pandemic, I’ve grown ever more connected to the more-than-human world, and I know I want to help it thrive. Exactly how is always the question, especially being on stolen land. Where to go and what to do? I wait for signs.
— — — — —
As he waited, he learned the sweet taste of wild rose hips and the exuberant songs of pine. Oftentimes, he’d wander the forests and the woods deepening his love for the moss, the streams, the rocks, and the trees. On each trip, he’d find a new spot that would cause his heart to swell with awe and reverence. Every walk deepened his love and brought the land into its true vitality. It was always there, but now he was listening and paying proper attention.
On one journey, he set out to commune with the spirit of a Great Tree in a park that he had roamed for years. As a small boy, he wandered away from his family one day and followed one of the park’s creeks with his younger cousins. They were gone for a while, and his family grew worried, but he found the way back. He didn’t have words for it then, but the spirit of the land — that Great Tree — kept him safe. He thought of this many years later looking over what could be the same creek he wandered as a child just beyond the clearing where he first encountered the Great Tree. Behind him, a bird sang as if to congratulate him on understanding that he and the park have had a connection that moved through decades. The Great Tree is jovial but ancient and lovingly unhurried. He encourages the humans who listen to him to be the same.
On another journey in another forest, he followed a trail along a creek on a refreshing spring day. Thousands of small waterfalls cascaded down the side of shale cliff across the water. Short-needled hemlocks coated the land in a rustic green; the mosses on the base of the trees were a vibrant emerald. It was a wet spring, and the path was caked in thick mud. The creek trail led him up a narrow hill deeper into the woods along a path through fallen trees. With each step, he let his troubles and worries sink into the Earth below. His reward for trusting in the transmutability of the Earth was beautiful bird song. He stopped to listen in the middle of a patch of tall pine trees and heard a wood thrush on the wind. Sitting at the top of a narrow hill, he let the song wash over and into him.
He sought the Wild Ones. Little did he know that every journey to the woods brought them closer. However, the Wild Ones were not without risk. A third forest taught him this lesson. There, a wild old crone haunts the ironweed. She is resentful of these new humans that have eroded her land and forced her into a space that grows ever smaller. This Lady of the Ironweed misses the land’s previous tenants who were respectful and knew how to honor the land properly. Not every spirit is forgiving. She has called countless deer to her side and has thus created the perfect habitat for ticks. In an attempt to commune with the Wild Ones of those woods, he moved through her trees on a cold spring day. Halfway through his journey, he found a tick crawling up his leg. He was able to flick it away, but he knew this was a warning: the Wild Ones are ever-present, and one must treat them with respect.
Together, these spirits weave a web that connects the land and the more-than-human world. All things and all lives are interconnected. The broken humans that poisoned the waters, skies, and ground are now witnessing the insects vanishing. Just as the flies and their thick clouds of thousands disappeared from the landscapes, so now go the spiders. He watched a large spider trap a fly in his window and knew their relative struggle.
The spirits guided him slowly along his way. These special places of refuge amongst the din of development were the keys to the future, and the land and its spirits let him know his next steps. All he had to do was ask the land spirits for help and tell them his plans out loud while in their presence. “I want to heal and re-wild the land,” he said. “I want to help you reclaim what was yours and what can be ours together with the right relationship.”
— — — — —
Many years later, the morning sunlight shines over the hills and into my east-facing window. Older now, I pick up a cup of smooth mugwort tea and look out over the rolling, green hills. I see other small homes scattered about the valley, each with grand gardens that interconnect and weave together. Pollinators are already buzzing and flitting about the riotous flowers. A woman tending roses across the way waves to me and smiles, and I wave back.
My magic worked; the years of developing relationships with the spirits of the land and attempting to make right what was wrong transmuted into a collective of humans who are committed to caring for these hills. The spells, the prayers, the cards, and the journeys into the imaginal guided the way to this land, and they came together to form a story built on reciprocity and regeneration. I followed the advice of the spirits and centered my desires around the forests and the woods that still stood. Together, the others nearby and I brought out the inherent vitality in the land that was once nearly broken. The Earth can and does heal quickly. We broken humans — those of us who have fallen out right relationship with the more-than-human world — have to make the conscious choice to help it.
In this valley, there are no mythic heroes trailblazing their own destructive way. Instead it’s filled simply with tenders of the land content to contribute to the wellbeing of all in their own ways. Together, we honor the stewards who helped shape this great land before and who still keep it in balance to this day. In collaboration with the tricksy spirits who never fully reveal their paths, we work to keep the individualistic tendencies of empire at bay somewhere between the past and the future in an evergreen present.