Woodland Fancies

Run, with back to the house, deserting the reality of dishes and homework for a brief while, come to the forest. Ahead it lies. Faster you run, and soon are encompassed by the green boughs of the maple. Inside, the trees reach upwards, standing proud and majestic, towering high above the dark burgundy floor below it. Swiftly, you are transported to the world of greens and red.

The woods around you is deep and mysterious. No longer an ordinary person, you are the daughter of a knight whose castle has been taken, and who has no choice but to fly. The ordinary skirt and blouse you are wearing becomes a dark green gown, softly falling to your feet; the clumsy tennis shoes that hold down your feet are now delightful little black boots. Deep into the woods you run. The crack of twigs breaking causes your heart to stop for a moment. Could it be the soldiers returning? You stand stiffly barely daring to breath, till you are relieved to see the white tails of two deer, bounding away into deeper recesses of the woods. Up ahead a pine grove comes into view. Its deep green boughs hang down thoughtfully, spreading a sharp yet alluring aroma into the air. A quiet place, where you can sit and think, hidden from the sight of the world around you. The earth below the pines is spread with golden brown, springy needles, a bed gradually laid by time, the work of many years fit for the resting of even a queen of fairies.

Stepping out from the last group of pines, the forest opens out into a small meadow. The last of the fall flowers are blooming: goldenrod, blue cornflower, and other late weeds. No longer the daughter of a knight, you exchange your gown for a simple blue cotton dress with long sleeves and a full skirt, covered by a crisp white apron. Your head is now covered with a sunbonnet. You are gathering flowers for your sister’s wedding with in the hour. You could almost hear the voices of children singing and the sound of church bells in the distance, and if you look hard enough, you can imagine a small white church building in the distance. But you must not linger here.

Once again you walk under the forests over hanging branches. This time however, you are entering the hidden fairy land. Stepping between two ancient trees, hanging as if they were burdened by some great secret, you are transported to the Hidden Realm. This land can only be entered by the two trees, and those who do not pass this way are unable to see this enchanted land. Your full white gown sparkles in the sunlight as if covered with small jewels. Stepping softly, you descend into the valley of the hidden kingdom. A soft mist gently wraps the pond that lies at the bottom. Soon you are also are enveloped by it. You can imagine the sound of little voices, soft and sweet like that of a morning dove. The lightness of the small slippers on your feet makes it feel as if you were flying. Over to the other side of the valley you travel, swiftly, following little trails made by small nimble feet. Too soon you reach the other side of the valley. With a wistful look you once again step between two trees and it is gone.

Stretched out before you is one last meadow. A long fence winds down your destined trail. Now a Scottish peasant, you can almost feel the rough cloth form your long plain dress. In your arms you hold a bouquet of the late summer flowers; these will brighten up the drab walls of your humble cottage. In the distance you can see your betrothed working on a building that in the coming years will be your home. Out of the bushes fly a flock of morning doves, cool grey and speckled. Looking at the grass makes you want to dance with it, but looking up you see that house is coming into veiw, your walk is completed.

You say farewell to the Scottish gown, and the sweet little boots, and suddenly your feet fell heavy again, weighed down by your large tennis shoes. Behind you lies the world of fancies, of magic and imagination, but for now, you must leave it, turning you back on it for a little while. The dishes must be done and there are real people to feed. Goodbye fairy world! Perhaps tomorrow I may return.

(note: this is not structured thebest, but I had to write it down before forgot and I'm too lazy and tired to go back and check it for grammer and spelling and sentence construction right now, so please excuse the errors)