Our Enchanted Woods

On a holiday my family took to the lake one year when I was just a young child, I recall I once briefly met a gnome. As I hurriedly wandered along the path that meandered for what felt endlessly around the entire waters edge, I stumbled upon this stout wee fellow slumped upon a toadstool. He wasn't very big, yet neither was I, and I'm not sure what it was he smoked form his pipe but he seemed rather a jovial chap. I was in no particular hurry, although was intent to move as fast as my little legs would carry and beyond the protective sight of my parents watchful eyes. There was however, a certainty in my somewhat limited stride that I would surely come across something magical beneath those trees, but only if I were to discover it alone. As I scurried along I could hear the water lightly lap against the lakes shore and there were the melodious tones of what faintly sounded like a mythical flute being played by fairies in the distance. My eyes were peeled to the track and at the surrounding trees, well at least at the base of the trees, as at the time my line of sight sat at only about two feet high from the ground. There was a memorable sense of whimsical adventure running through my veins that day, and it is that same sense of adventure that I remember so vividly that still thrives in the essence of who I am to this day.

 

 As I came around a slight bend in the trail there he sat, quite content with his spot in the shade and his pipe in his grasp smoldering away. I stopped, stood there silently mesmerized and we both smiled largely at one another. Intrigue lingered in his eyes, as if it were as exciting for him to see me as it was that I was seeing him. I parted my mouth slightly preparing to speak, and he removed the slender wooden tip of his pipe from his own. But before either of us had a chance to utter a word the sound of approaching footsteps and my kid sister humming as she skipped down the path broke the silence on which we had met. He quickly, though a little sleepily, got up form his stool and disappeared behind a tree. Within moments I was greeted by the other members of my family wandering the track behind me. As they approached my father took my hand and we continued along the path. I did glance back briefly, but he was nowhere to be seen.

I've never stopped searching for gnomes, and elves, and other magical beings amongst the trees of forests I visit. Although, I now have a companion to share with me my quest; to seek out the magic in the woods.

We've discovered a forest not far from our home and we regularly wander its otherwise unfrequented pathways.

 Many things have we found of beauty. Like houses built by birds,

and the delightfully disorganised forest floor,

 little stools for little elven bottoms,

the sculpted creations of the trees,

and the stage on which the morning light performs.

We've even found where forgetful little bugs have left their jackets hanging on branches.

But, although there is undoubtedly magic amongst this woods, we're as yet to have met another gnome.

Though I'm certain if we keep learning the language of the trees, how to whisper to the breeze, and build a trust up with the leaves... then every inch of our enchanted woods will come to life, and the forest will tell us her secrets.

And maybe, just maybe, two little boys will get the chance to befriend a gnome.