Lady of the Woods

Water encircles the Lady of the Woods. She rests her arms on knees pressed against her

chest. Birds chirp and chat like the staccato notes of a toy piano, while beetles jumping on moss

form the beats of her heart. Lady smells of sweet cedar during spring. Her long grassy hair,

tangled with roots and mycelium, gleams with the hues of glacier-fed summer lagoons. The trees

impart their secrets to the Lady, trading water through her hair for the fungi and mother trees.

Lady may be the only one to love the woods in all conditions — not only during storms,

but also through winters, fires, and growth. She adores the woodland, for what it has been and

what it will evolve to be. Lady enjoys the winter. Icicles and white snowflakes kiss her cheeks

and laminate her entire being like we embrace an olive, in one bite.

As humans emerged, they began to cut Old Growth. Lady had supported the maturing

saplings for more than 300 years of life and could sense the change. Lady endured pain through

the roots that intertwined, like the feeling of lightning striking her body. She sent energy and

water, but they weren’t accepted. Trunks were severed, and Old Growth retired from their roots

and connections.

Lady is the mother of woodland: she’s connected to the entire forest. Conserving the

vitality, she is the wisest of the trees. Lady is their sanctuary, home, medicine, encouragement,

and teacher. She is all.