The dark forest beckoned the all-too-curious girl...
She was the rudderless kind, blown about by every wind,
not caring for the consequences, just eager for movement.
Life had battered her near silly already.
Maybe that was why she hardly cared anymore
where the wicked wind took her.
She’d heard from the villagers that there were monsters and ogres,
terrible things that dwelled in the forest.
Even the bravest men avoided the forbidding woods and would never
venture there alone.

Surely she was being drawn by forces unseen…

There was a rustling of leaves as she ventured near.
It was as if an eerie thrill rippled through the forest at her approach.
All nature is aware, after all...
The sun was setting and the shadows were growing longer.
She felt a shiver shoot through her, but failed to perceive its source.
She was too foolish to be afraid.

Nature does not protect ignorance.

That is the stuff of fairy tales.

There was a hunger, almost palpable, that enveloped her as she stepped within the forests' embrace. She was a desirable morsel.
The forest had not seen such a delectable visitor in many a moon.
An air of excitement permeated the atmosphere.
It only served to increase the girl’s curiosity.
She was terribly drawn to the mysterious depths of the forest.
She was soon heedless of the approach of night.
Yet another chill rippled through her. She felt alive...special.
She was so caught up in the feelings that she soon lost her way.
Before long, she was surrounded by dense forest and could not
get her bearings.

For a moment she experienced a sensation of fear.
It was fleeting...and she had not yet learned to respect such things.

Her fascination carried her beyond such considerations.
She felt the hunger surround her, but rather than feeling alarm,
she felt desired...desirable...and she longed for just a little bit more
of that delicious feeling.

This was a force like no other…
The sensation was raw, primal, mysterious.
It stirred her to feel hungered for in this way.
It sent a thrill through her being.

A trail bore her along till she came to a lovely quiet pool.
She knelt at the edge to look upon her beautiful reflection.
As she knelt gazing at her incomparable loveliness,
a dark haired man appeared in the mirrored water.
She was drawn into his deep, dark, compelling eyes.
She was mesmerized for a long moment, lost in his eyes.

Little did she realize that she was the hunted...the prey.
She would become the tortured plaything before the final kill.
Her fairytale was about to end in a horror of blood and gore.

There was a sudden flash of light as something lashed out
at her from the depths of the water.
She felt darkness close around her as searing pain enveloped her.
Her last thought was for the foolhardiness of her choice...


She did not know that the fairy tales of men and women and nature
differ from one another.

Nature is a wise, powerful and unerring teacher and we cannot recast
its qualities to suit our desires.

One of the precepts of Nature is that life is interdependent…
Life feeds and is given for food.
Life is predatory when hunger calls… In those moments danger reigns.
Death is always stalking us in one form or another.
It is our responsibility to keep ourselves alive and whole.
In fact, Nature endows us with inborn skills, but we must first become aware of them and then we must do the work of developing those skills.
In that way, we are kept from our foolishness.

The fairy tale of man is centered around his material needs.
Sex, food, power.
The hungers predominate by turns.
Men are, by nature, hunters and aggressors.
They kill for sport, they plunder and dominate.
They are bred to challenge and compete in all things.

Ahh...and then we have the fairy tale of woman...
Though some women are more complete in their persons,
many are the weak-minded and weak-willed.
Actually, they are not born that way.
All humans are equipped with intelligence and strength.
They make themselves that way for many reasons.
They cultivate in their psyches an aura of helpless vulnerability
and a desire to be dominated.
They unwittingly send a strong and steady signal to the predators.
They quite ignore the facts of Nature.
In her fairy tale, a man will come to her rescue and save her
from all harm...and self-responsibility.
The game of love becomes a battle for conquest that they
are ill-prepared to recognize.
By the time they realize that the game is on, it is already too late.
They lack the skills to fight and blood is spilled.
If they survive, there are wounds that leave scars and holes in the soul.
The next predator senses this as well, and if she has not learned,
she will find herself in a dangerous and addictive quest for her life.


Whitsuntide in old Ireland
In contrast to Easter Sunday, which was considered a very lucky day,
Whit Sunday was quite the opposite. All precautions were taken against
accident or ill-fortune and very few people would set out on a journey
or risk doing anything dangerous - particularly if it involved
Water was completely avoided, for it was thought that the danger
of drowning was very great. It was considered very foolish to even
walk along the edge of the sea, river or lake.
There was an old superstition that all of those who had perished
in that water rose up on Whit Sunday to try and persuade or force
the living to join them.