The Woodland Realm & The Power Within
“The forest has shrunk
And fear has expanded,
The forests have dwindled,
There are less animals now,
less courage and less lightning,
less beauty
and the moon lies bare,
deflowered by force and
then abandoned.”
― Visar Zhiti, The Condemned Apple
It was autumn. I remember it well, even now, all these years later. I can remember feeling as though I’d just stepped into an Enid Blyton book (my favourite author as a child, her books filled with magic and nature. Even then it called to something deep inside). We’d rounded a corner, my mother and I, the dogs, border terriers, running free and I was blown away. Golden browns, reds and oranges set the forest ablaze with leaves falling from the tree as the wind blew, a magical cascade that seemed to my young eyes as a curtain opening, revealing the secret place that was the heart of the woods. Here magic reigned and everything felt more real. There was a stream too or perhaps it was a pond. I can still see it in my mind's eye. I sat beneath a large tree and can remember feeling thankful for this moment, for this place. This was the first time I felt and recognised the spirit of a place and the memory of it is one I’ll carry forever.
Boxing Day found me in the woods, a usual occurrence, being out in the woods that is and you know what, I’d never seen so many people. It was like a zombie apocalypse film but with people instead of zombies. It’s normal to see one or two others in my walks in the woods, but this many people, well it was somewhat surreal. I guess that even ordinary folks (and by that I mean people who don’t usually enter the woods, do not see the magic of the forest or nature generally), after the indulgence and extravagance of Christmas day and indeed the run up to it, crave some sense of connection to what is real. Humans for the most part, at some time or other are drawn back to nature.
It’s weird, you may well be thinking, that I would choose to write about such a subject at this time. The UK has entered yet another lockdown and Covid seems to be rampant and then there is the storming of the US Capitol building by far right arseholes and the tame response by the police, but it’s at these times I think getting back to what is real is needed. Of course action is needed, but we must be strong to do what needs doing and for me, that strength comes from nature. It allows me processing time and make no mistake, a good fight, no matter the form it takes or the reasoning behind it, takes planning. It takes keeping a level head. Sometimes that fight is just keeping your head above water as the world descends into terror, sometimes that fight is bringing people together or taking direct action. But first, we need to take stock, to realise what is important and to draw strength from it, to soothe our spirits and strengthen ourselves for what is to come.
I also think it gives a good perspective. The woods help me to remember what is real, what is worth my efforts. It gives me a balance and clarity, it eases my soul. It’s like taking a holiday from which I return energised.
I often think of the woods as a liminal space, bridging the gap between what was and what is. Perhaps that’s because growing up in a rural town in the 90s, so much of my childhood was spent in the woods. I walk in the same woods now as I did then, though they have changed somewhat, and so have I for that matter. Nothing stays the same, everything changes, is in constant flux. The woods near my home, the ones from my childhood are now managed by a nature trust. I went there the other day with my own child and dog. It was one of those gloriously frosty mornings, cold but bright. The cold air pinched my nose and numbed my cheeks, but I felt warm from the efforts of climbing the hill. As you reach the top, it opens out into a meadow. My partner tells me this used to be a landfill, but I have only ever known it as a meadow. To the right is a path that leads on a circular walk, the woods on this side now fenced off, but they never used to be.
I can remember being at secondary school - high school to those outside of the UK and we would come this way on our trek into school. We’d call it a shortcut, but it wasn’t really, instead it lengthened the journey by about ten minutes, or maybe even double that, back then. Perhaps it is because kids are wilder, more feral and so are attracted to the wilds in a way that most adults have forgotten, preferring the freedom of the woods to the constraints of the classroom.
In those days it was quite normal for older siblings to look after the younger ones while parents were at work and the long and seemingly never ending days of the summer holidays were spent in these woods, the older kids from the estate reluctantly taking their younger siblings along on their adventures. The sixty-foot drop (it wasn’t really, more like a 20-foot drop) was the stuff of legends, or at least that’s how it seemed and the older lads would ride down it on their pedal and pop mopeds or bmx’s. There’s an old air raid shelter in the woods too and this too was a haunt of the local kids. But I think it wasn’t those attractions that drew the kids there. As I sit here and lose myself in memories of my childhood, I feel like the woods represented a version of Peter Pan’s Never Never Land. A place filled with magic and adventure. Back then I never understood nor knew that this feeling had a name. That wasn’t important, still isn’t. What was important was that there, in that place, it didn’t matter that we were the forgotten poor, the children from council houses in hand me down clothes. Home life problems didn’t matter. There was only freedom, companionship and something else. Something deeper, something that called to the wild spirit within us. Many people, as they grow, forget that siren song of the woods and wild places. The melody fades and the feelings too. But they can be regained.
Genius Loci is Latin and means the protective spirit of a place though sometimes less magical folk may use the term to mean the ambience of a particular place, perhaps (or most likely) unaware it is the spirit of that place, the guardian if you like, that is responsible for the mood of the place. There are many types of spirit that fall under the title of Genius Loci. Within European Pagan folklore, the green man is perhaps the most well known of nature spirits, the spirit of the wild wood. This is perhaps one of the most difficult spirits of the place to forge a bond with, perhaps because of its wildness and our tameness. Sometimes it is hard to acknowledge that sometimes the wild wood does not want to work with us. There have been times when out with the dogs in the woods, the dogs will go no further for no particular reason, and cannot be cajoled, and so, taking the hint, we go back to the main trail. An important part of working and building relationships with genius loci is that of trust and respect.
It’s easy, especially for Pagans, to feel a deep connection with nature, and that sometimes it is easy to overlook, or to not see the magic in towns and cities. We often view them as somewhat dirty, polluted places, crowded with people, and whilst this may be part of the truth, it is also true that every place, including urban areas will have spirits that make up the genius loci. It’s hard to imagine any modern city’s conception. Imagine London, or New York, or any major town or city when it was just a settlement. More and more settlers arrived, attracted by various things, usually good land, or river access and so on. Whatever the reason, these areas that were to become thriving metropolises, something attracted people to those areas. Imagine all of the human efforts and wills, deaths, tragedies and accidents alongside the more joyous occasions that happen over the course of a city’s lifetime. All of these things become ingrained, they seep into the land, the streets and so it is no real surprise that these places have their own genius loci. All of the events that are happening now will also become ingrained in those places where they occur.
We can affect the spirit of place by our actions. What we do and what we don’t. And so you see why the woods and nature are important to me. The past, the future, the here and the now. Like I said, the woods are a liminal space, filled with power. Let us take that power into ourselves now and go out and do what we must.
“What we are doing to the forests of the world is but a mirror reflection of what we are doing to ourselves and to one another.”
― Chris Maser, Forest Primeval: The Natural History of an Ancient Forest
“Who else goes to the woods to find peace only to discover themself in the process? I find forests unclutter the mind with each breath the trees afford me.”
― Michael Poelt
EMMA KATHRYN
Emma Kathryn, practises traditional British witchcraft, Vodou and Obeah, a mixture representing her heritage. She lives in the sticks with her family where she reads tarot, practises witchcraft and drink copious amounts of coffee.
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