Where exactly in the strand,
does a rich tapestry tell its story? Where does a stone column echo its songs? There are many things significant within, and around us, that each have importance. We all possess
a strand.
Each to our own.

This is where I will tell you of mine. But such a story, falls on ears only willing to hear it. Only those willing to open their hearts. Only those who are true. Every season graces the forest, a never ending cycle. We grow, we thrive, we fall, we regenerate. Breathing again, telling our stories.
Mine begins in a world exactly as we see it. At this very spot. Years before you.



My people walked these very leafy halls, our songs resonating off these very birches, pines, willows, ashes; our songs collected in the very boughs of the great tree, forever. I recall a day when I was a young one. You, you all have a dream? A Vision? A Goal? Mine was to help lay stones, for that great and mighty cathedral. I remember when we walked joyously, from the great tree to the church. Over the bridge. Candles placed to light the way at night.
And all the while, our gods watched over us. A time when God walked with man.
But you say they still walk with you now? Weaving themselves through nature, dancing beside you.
It is wonderful to hear, they are still with you. I am glad you sat with me brother. What stories do you have to tell? Come now, we all have one. I love a good tale, history, knowledge. Knowledge is a powerful force, so many take it for granted.
In fact, there are so many things we take for granted. But some of these things we cannot have. A sweet flower. Pleasing to the eye, smelling sweet. To be near her

is a blessing. To be close to her....

Sometimes we miss these moments,
these lives.

No matter how sweet.
I could sit near the poppy patch for hours. It is just as beautiful as I remember it. I would often walk to it after the monks met. I can remember
the chorus of finches, the gentle breeze,
the dappled sunlight...

Her laugh.

it is forbidden.

I walk through these stony ruins, unnerved. Placid.
Take a deep breath. Regenerate. Remember.
All great things have their time.
Sometimes we do not wish for it to be so. But destiny is a force best left untouched.





But enough about my story. Im sure it does not interest you. If you wish to know more, you may find me. I will be only to happy to tell.
For there are many more chapters in this tale.


But please, tell me your tale. Who did I sit with, and speak with, and dance with,
children of the forest?