More than once in my posts about autumn I have mentioned seeing the spirits that once inhabited the woods on Long Island, where I live. It's harder to find them now, with all the nasty sodium-lights they've installed here. When we had white steet lights it seemed more favorable to the shades. Indians and farmers stride through our woods, Hessians and Revolutionary War soldiers seem to visit the shores off The Sound.
Worst ever for mischievious fairy-spirits was Ireland's tall stretches of pine forest, where only Monkshood (known to enchanters) is sturdy enough to grow. There, camping overnight, I was scared nearly witless by the never ceasing whispers in the branches,twigs falling and wind holwing thru the boughs. I do not relish camping in pine-forests to this day!
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'Perilous indeed,' said Aragorn, 'fair and perilous; but only evil need fear it, or those who bring some evil with them. Follow me!'
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