See full book “Our Violent Future: Elves, Healers, Forest Defenders and the Magic to Wish” at: www.greensurvival.blog.com

OUR VIOLENT FUTURE
ELVES, HEALERS, FOREST DEFENDERS … AND THE MAGIC
TO WISH !*!

A FANTASY NOVEL BY RATH AVENS


ALL MATERIAL PROTECTED BY Copyright; CONTACT:  Greenbooks11@hotmail.com



... "Come to me - Children of the Green Dream - for I need your innocent wishes."



Call to Healers, Peace Lovers and all Animals:


Elves move now in the night. They take up positions, they watch and they prepare to sacrifice for Nature's Survival - which is all of our lives into the future. If, you believe in keeping violence to a minimum, then you had better get to work fast. Prepare to put your life on the line that your mouth talks so much about: the line of Truth - of knowing when a situation has gone too far and something has to be done. Gaia manifests her own defense. The beauty and promise of Nature call strongly to those who know it well. It is time to choose sides or to forfeit your input about what happens next. If you can't choose the Fields of War, then help us with money and love. Work on your friends and relatives. Build support (food, gear, safe-houses) for what has to happen.
“Our Violent Future” takes you behind the front-lines of eco-defense, to a time when thousands of people have moved to rural forest areas. They come to defend the wild and biodiversity - they come for survival. Urban areas are exploding in violence and despair as the USA crumbles into chaos. Refugees clog the roads and threaten to overwhelm endangered areas.

Healers, youth, eco-commandos, and the young officers of the militia move cautiously toward mutual acceptance and tenuous alliance. Every event and encounter is fraught with danger, espionage and assassination. Into this mix, step Hazel, Sasha and Jarred. Each of them has a powerful network of supporters who work openly or behind the scenes to exert influence and gather information.

Two "good" magics seek unification toward a purpose: to guide the Volkentrough - the collective last wish of all species. Complex forces arise to seek their own wishes. Wildryns – spirits of extinct species and all the children lost to toxics, abortion, and hate - are trapped on the Earth. These Wildryns wait for the time of their optimal release. But dark shadows of evil strive to undo the plans of others and to control the power of these tortured souls, for their own designs.


Hazel's group – the Eco-Commandos - have stopped commercial logging and attracted many young forest defenders. Now, they hope to win local elections and begin the restoration of the ecology. Sasha's group – the Network – is playing all sides in this dangerous game. They are mostly young people who live in militia zones, but they tend to favor the healers and the forest defenders.

West of coastal Northern California the militia has consolidated its power. Two powerful factions vie for control. The "Young Officers" group wants peaceful coexistence, but an older "Fanatic Christian" faction is determined to establish itself over the whole region. Weapons are being stockpiled in preparation for a showdown.

The Eco-Commandos split up into missions. in Colorado and San Francisco. Hazel and a friend travel cross-country to a council meeting with powerful militia leaders. All three groups run into difficulties, but manage to accomplish at least part of their missions.

Hazel, Sasha, and Jarred end up lost and hunted in the forest. Shadows close in on them. Rescuers find them and they head toward the election-day music festivals. Traps block their path and more high drama unfolds before the day is done. Sacrifices are chosen and mistakes barely avoided. Sasha leaves his friends and strikes out on his own, in hopes of sparing them grief and hazard.

Forces of fate and magic converge at a stony hilltop. Ships transport troops as the Federal government moves to nullify the election results through force and occupation. Storm clouds brew and emotions fill the sky. A moment of destiny builds to its multiple climax. Awareness of the situation grows until a spontaneous awakening is triggered. Most people come to realize that they have to defend the places they live, since there is nowhere left to go. The refugee flood is slowed down.


Straw-Men burn in the night sky, as beacons shine from one community to the next, proclaiming solidarity and friendship with the new ways. All things come together; friends trust each other, and miracles of courage and hard work save the day. Across the planet, highways of commerce and greed are thrown down. Soon, most people recognize that technology or complex machines that do not serve basic needs of food and shelter are inherently wasteful and evil.
Many of the young forest defenders and eco-commandos die, but overall violence is kept to a minimum. Joy and confidence spread and a helping hand is extended to refugees.

BOOKS, ZEENS ... RESOURCES FOR INSPIRATION

1. Fifth Sacred Thing: (Starhawk)
2. Into the Forest: (J. Hegland)
3. Ecotopia: (E. Callenbach)
4. Quest for Faradawn: (unknown, U.K.)
5. LWOD - Live Wild or Die!
6. New World Rising:
7. Lorien Elves (Tales 1):
8. Isle of Woman: (Piers Anthony)
9. Rusalka & Chernovog: (C.J. Cherryh)
10. Intro to Permaculture: (Bill Mollison)

*****************************************************************************************************

You have to trust the magic and believe
in how we are using it.

“Only through ‘make believe’ can we find the power of Make Believe, the power to change our narrow view - these dead end ways. Trust the elves, we have to I believe. Become one with all things and all times. Each moment is the accumulation of all evolution, all struggles. Come, we can have fun in our company together, while we create a new way of being and a new view of life and time and ...love. I’ll show you how to climb giant trees and you can show me how to wander aimlessly through the woods, in love with all life.”
Hazel leaped on Jared knocking him backward into a pile of leaves and soft branches. “What do you say, Renegade Militia, are we a team? I’ll have to kill you if you say no, you know too much.” She yelled out as Jarred flipped her back over, but then she kept rolling and ended up on top again. Before he could say yes she was kissing him long and holding him tight. He held on a long time knowing how much needed to be done and how easily they could fail or lose each other.


Every joy and every sadness... every wish of safety... and every certainty of doom filled their hearts. But as they rose to leave Hazel felt a lessening of the dread and confusion that had stalked them these last few days. Having made it this far strengthened by the companionship growing around Jarred, Sasha, and herself, Hazel appreciated the new skills she was developing. Skills she would soon have to rely on. She pondered what to do at the music festival and wished hard for Anaya to be there. She had to be able to answer these questions, make sense out of the dreams. Wearing her grim determination lightly, Hazel gathered in her thoughts and energy as they climbed down the steep ridge trail where Sasha had gone…


As they came up the ridge from their camp, Hazel was wondering how many more miles to the Klamath Road. Sasha stood up from a log by the road and smiled, saying, “It’s not much farther, a couple miles downhill…

Look the horses!!”


-- Above excerpted from Book Two: Chapter VII of Our Violent Future



Introducing a book on Forest Defense, Magic and Honorable Resistance:



“Wildryns are trapped spirit energy or souls as humans imagine them. We think they are elven, but there is something wrong in Eald and in other magical planes. Someone’s powerful wish is holding the Wildryns to particular places on Earth. There may be human souls caught up in this, perhaps children who died in the womb or from toxics, hate or murder. I cannot find an answer to this riddle, yet I must, and I can’t come and help you now.” Anaya faded into mist like a sound in the fog.

This is the great war - the eternal Struggle: whether the light or the dark will unbalance creation. Will there be a future of life restored and respect for the circle? Or will the Dark spells of greed and delusion triumph in oblivion?

Unless we embrace and join our light and dark natures we will miss the path of balance and there will be no tomorrow no third chance. Darkness gathers and laughs at our confusion. Consequences commence. Yet, the crack of the Eald-Edge - that place of happiness and love in struggle - is still in your reach. Search it out now with your heart or remember our warning.



A synopsis and introduction:


The origin of all things came from the First Wish: Let there be Light.
The Second Wish came, for there must be darkness for there to be light.
Creativity and a bit of Divine Vanity, brought the Wish of Life ... and thus that of Death.

Soon, Beauty and Diversity bargain with Chaos for immortality as the Nebyakin and the Shadow Spirits conspire against Purity.


Tanyaka wishes for a self-generating Gaia Defense, so the elves drew magic unto the Ley Lines. Patterns evolve aligned to the Universal life Force. Rei-Ki embeds in all things while Eu spreads out covering creation and seeking connections to a balance of energies - and healing.


Love of the Forest returns to many hearts, genetic memories reach out, and this awakening works with Brione's wish that Life should be so simple. Finally, enough voices join to power the Wish of the Innocents for Simplicity, Nature, and 'Letting Go.' Just in time, hundreds of Healers come forward to join with the cutting edge of the Forest Defenders: the 'straight edge' Youth of the forest camps.

Love guides Rage into Gaia self defense as the Front-line Strategy gains popularity and reluctant acceptance by most moderates. Almost everyone tolerates the refugees and the kids; the Forest Camps, and even the power of Rei-Ki ... the possibility of all healing together ... somehow.

Spiritual awakening begins to energize the nearly forgotten Ley Lines and the Youth of Prophesy fulfill Lorien's wish for a silence to the chainsaws. People come to occupy the land in self-defense of the Future. Imprints build up energy as the vortex of each magic pulls its parts together.


Ceremonies offer love and sacrifice at the Holy Places, the special forest groves, and all the places of tremendous pain, where extinctions and suffering create the Wildryns. These trapped spirits are no longer only elves, but now occur wherever dislocations of the Pattern of Life, cause unnatural death and elimination.

Love seeks to ward the dangerous imprints, but planning and timing tend toward entropy (Chaos) as nothing is certain in the End Times.


Imbalance remains as a great cosmic cycle turns with Earth's struggle. Nebyakin watch as Shadows spread their devious plans and tricks. The Gods have few wishes left. Perhaps they are only as strong as their Myths.



Crossing New Boundaries…


This is a true story, though some of it has not transpired - as of yet.

The outcome of the Final Battles is unknown and undecided.


Delay increases the chance of failure and of contributes to greater suffering.



Disclaimer and partial Confession:


Much of the first half of the book comes from actual experiences. Many of the characters in the book are real people or composites of several people. Some have their original forest names and some do not. Some of these characters went on to lead large organizations or international protest campaigns, some stayed in the trees and some went underground (maybe). Some drew heat from the feds and others should have. I myself know little of anything that has taken place in the Northwest or in animal or forest defense since 2000.




OUR VIOLENT FUTURE
ELVES, HEALERS, FOREST DEFENDERS … AND THE MAGIC
TO WISH !*!

A FANTASY NOVEL BY RATH AVENS



... "Come to me - Children of the Green Dream - for I need your innocent wishes."

Follow the Gray Path with Elven Lore ... and you shall find your role. Bring your friends who can balance the Three Motivations: the Self, the Tribe, and the Future. This is the time - the Hour of Decision - for those who fight for all species. This is the Battle of the Future. And this is your specie’s last opportunity to re-route the path of evolution – to etch new patterns into a planet’s fate. Walk with me ... that slim path of chances, the Edge where Unconditional Love touches Unconditional Sacrifice. Somewhere in our Dreams, the Gray Path breaks through the trap and creates La Tierra Luminoso."

Wolves circle warily as her spirit shell guards The Innocence...

Owl’s green eyes speak words of finality. Claws of predation sink deep into
Bear’s shaggy shoulder: "The Nature of Things is to seek life. The Web of Life patterns your awareness of Right Connections. Intimacy is the carrot and Chaos the stick. When you have seen my death, your heart will burst with the knowing.

Magic and Chaos are the two components of Existence. Chaos tends to disrupt, to interfere, to trick, to corrupt and destroy. Magic is a neutral force which tends to energize the Nature of Things and the Patterns of the Future. Beware the Agents of Chaos - those who would steal the magic - when Faith abandons Conscience.

The Patterns of Life recycle nutrients and energy on Earth. I designed the Patterns with a piece of each God’s heart. These are only borrowed. Each cycle, a new Chosen must earn the right to renew the Offering of the Gods. I set the elves to guard the Patterns ... and like you they maintain that vigil unto death ... or worse.

Humans let the "Glory of the Mad Child" trick them beyond the Patterns of Life. Now they wander a course aimed at Shadows. The Patterns ... are threatened! I made a mistake that I can not fix without your help. Humans have lost most of their elvish ability, but they - above all creatures - still dream and think into the future. That is your magic.

Shadows reside in all things. Ignorance and denial amplify Chaos. The Shadows separate themselves with the Lost Magic. They manifest Fates. The Magic and the Beauty, which the Gods created, have worked too great an enchantment.

Even the Gods forgot their Shadows ... Chaos potential multiplies the longer you deny the Sacrifice of the Chosen. Your delay questions the very Nature of Things. Hasten, for the Magic evolves, and its momentum redefines its needs and its requirements. Vortexes of unfulfilled wishes clash with the Magical Defense - the Patterns of Life. Great or terrible Imprints demand expression. I cannot say whether the Union - the Great ... or the Sacrifice – the Terrible - shall prevail.
... The Nature of the Vortex is: to be appeased.

Actions create side-effects unless ‘The Root’ is consulted. Realign the Powers or else, edges will multiply and corrode deeper into your consciousness. Destroy the Lines of Greed which lead Shadow Wishes to the Portal. Darnovoi seeks the Dominion of the Nebyakin - an end to Life and Magic. – Goddess Lorien of the Wildwood, Mountains and Springs


... Listen to the leaves’ whisperings ... kiss the wind... listen to the cries of the Earth and be the trailing wails of a vanishing specie. Reach out your toes to feel the edge of the abyss - where the Great Imprint draws cataclysm. Forget everything you ‘know.’ Discard all attachments and possessions. Follow your nose to the intersections of greatest pain. Offer your life – at the very least!
Join those fighting for all species and ... a chance comes to wish forth an Imprint:: One that brings together the Light and the Dark. Only then can new patterns emerge - in time - and, ‘There shall be a re- establishment of the Original Nature of Things.’ That is the Prophesy.
-- Brione’s dream of The Wild Woman, ‘0004’


Refugees, Gods! So many refugees from the floods and nowhere to go, with violence in the cities. Those summers of ‘06 and ’07 the roads were clogged with bewildered folks. Some tried to get up into the hills, but most couldn’t make it. The rivers were running wild and high.
Our story was a common one, of those who thought they were ready. It’s hard to really prepare when you’ve no idea what to expect. It helps to keep repeating: food and shelter, food and shelter...
We set about to live deep into the forest. Alina and Sunshine knew much about gardening, wild foods, and food preservation. Fanghorn was only twelve, yet quite proficient at stalking with his bow. Ermine and Peak were young pros at security, planning and recons... We practiced making jewelry and talismans from the unique objects we found in our wanderings.
We found a nice summer campsite on a lush little stream. We hunted, grew hemp, and built natural material yurts. We often traveled to the Fairs and Gatherings selling or trading our homemade jewelry and raingear. People liked our pamphlets on the Elven Predictions and the Way of the Goddess. Sometimes we talked to people about how the Rednecks and Elves could live together and create a better world.


A New Magic shall arise amid the rubble of a dying world or perhaps not dying but only the passing of the world as we knew it. I cannot see all who travel the Path nor what trials they must suffer, for a Disturbance - an unbalanced Power - seeks good but is untested. I know this for it will be a part of me, coming from my life or out from my life’s changing. It will grasp and cling, yet with love and belief - the Savior will shine - the Portal will dim. - Jarrel - Witch of Scarlet Glenn



Dedication -- This Book is dedicated to: Martyrs: Augusto Cesar Sandino (Nicaragua); Diana Oughton, Terry Robbins, and Theodore Gold (Weather Underground, New York); Dalal Mughrabi (Palestine); Fernando Pereira (Holland/New Zealand); Michalis Prekas (Kalgogreza, Italy); Loula Abboud (Lebanon); Petra Schelm (Hamburg, Germany); Chico Mendes (Brazil); Christoforos Marinos (Piraeus, Italy); Eduardo Massari (Beleno) and Maria Soledad Rosas (Italy); David Gypsy Chain (Texas and Grizzly Creek); Naya Bryan (Santa Cruz); Bartolomeu Morais da Silva (Brazil); Beth O'Brien (Portland, Oregon); Alex Lemun (Chile); Dorothy Stang (Nun murdered in Brazil); Nicolas David Neira Alvares (Colombia); Zenon Diaz Necul (Chile); the indigenous and campesino martyrs of Bolivia and Ecuador, the guerrillas of Colombia; Khava Barayeva (Chechnya); Wafa Idris (Palestine), Sheikh Ahmed Yassin (Palestine); Ayat al-Akhras (Palestine); Hiba Daraghmeh (Palestine); Nek Mohammed (Afghanistan and Pakistan); Hanadi Tayseer (Palestine); and the following incarcerated comrades: Ana Lucia Gelabert (Cuban-American); Irmgard Möller (Heidelberg, Germany); Marilyn Buck (Native American); Ted Kazinsky (Montana); Helen Woodson (Texas); Ibai Ederra (spain); Robert Thaxton - Rob Los Ricos (Eugene, Oregon); Sara Olson (SLA- California); Jeffrey Free Luers and Craig Critter Marshall (Fall Creek, Oregon); Tre Arrow (Oregon/British Colombia) and all those who risk life, limb or liberty to stop the senseless destruction of Earth that we all depend on.... (See complete list at: GreenSurvival.blog.com/)

In these times we are in, there is but one path. If the animals could vote and the Future had a voice they would understand what we are fighting for.



*************BOOK I
*************WHEN WORLDS MEET


CHAPTER ONE:

Elves, Healers, and Eco-Commandos


Herein lies what is known of the Elves and their Queen, Lorien - Goddess of the Wildwood. These stories are like dreams, and this is not unusual when interacting with Elves. It is a turbulent connection we share with them - two worlds - once connected and now so different. Even for we of the Woods - magic is confusing - almost beyond our grasp - something felt and experienced, but not easily described. One minute the sense of the magic is everywhere and then suddenly events or destinies collide and something even more amazing is created from the Sacred Things and from Spirit !*!

Understanding what has been and what will be remains a mystical challenge. To - you - who are stepping into our world * welcome. Enter the place where Time and Music fill the space between the Colors of Light and Love. Silence your eyes and let your Spirit find its way toward the Light - Truth - beyond the pain. Come and share our friendship and practice the Craft. Leaving behind your human ways is a slow and painful sacrifice. But it is one that must be endured if you would know the way and sort the wishes.


Hesitate not at all...great joy and the fellowship of the Wild awaits your acceptance and your commitment. Try it. Why not? What else is there to do? Become an Elf, be strong... and be aware... and you will see.



As The Dirt Settles Into Your Clothes And Skin;
As Your Hair Tangles And Collects Thorns
And Seeds; As Your Body Eases Into
The Tranquility And Peace Of The Bubbling
Creek.... The Wind In The Trees;
The Stars Shine Back Into Your Clearing
Eyes And... The Silliness Of City Ways,
Dissolves Away - As If ...It Never Could Have Been.
Connections With The Wild Seep In
And Grow Deep Within Your Soul. And
You Are Free, Feral and Alive.
You Can Never Be Alone Again For...
We Are One: Wood Nymphs and Faery
Pranksters; Butterflies, Sparrows
Mushrooms...Earth Is Alive-Resisting - And Teaching..
We Are Remembering Each Other.
Listen And Pray For The Elves To Enter.
Welcome A New Day - A New Way Of Old.
For All... Blessings : To * Be !



An E c o - S o c i a l D e f e n c e - E S D

An ancient Raven with a broken beak got me lost in the woods one day.

It wanted to scare me into listening. It squawked:
"Nobody thinks about the creatures dying off forever. You - so called - Radicals -
Seekers of the Root - you can’t figure out how or what to fight. Why don’t you
spread your wings and fly out of Denial toward a little more Paranoia. You can’t
just wish the world to be nice. Vague wishes often hurt: a nice world for lightning bolts or anaerobic bacteria is different than one for mammals and mushrooms. Humans were supposed to divine how the world works not reduce it to rubble trying to figure out their egos. What kind of world do you want, how will you get there? Why don’t you ever explain what your strategy is, or hopes to accomplish?

Since you ignore the animals and life that beg you now to fight like crazy - while there’s still a shred of use for sacrifice... think up something that’s a little more than symbolic art. Try this: Eco-social Defense. Decide, either by lottery or by virtue of eco-need and practicalities, a couple Counties that make sense to occupy, settle and apply whatever it is you believe in. Publicize your plan and the target sanctuaries - places where people should relocate to. Raise money: bake sales, panhandling, hard work, or spin some chump change out of a fat cat like Soros or Ted Turner or Woody (if he gets fatter). Set up land trusts for low-impact eco-communities. Start building and planting trees, learning and teaching simple - living skills, and fighting (nicely ) to defend the ecology of your sanctuary.

When enough people get there you take over all political offices and institute your radical ‘bright’ ideas. Then work on neighboring counties. I know it’s hard to abandon some struggles and places... but would you rather lose everywhere or win for sure in a few places? There are a dozen important counties in the West that would each require only five to twenty thousand new voters in order to dominate their politics. The State may try to stop you, or circumvent the Will of the People, but you’ll have thousands of direct action die-hards to enforce your own law.

That Raven still scares me. I can’t stop thinking about ESD or coming up with something that makes sense - a way to live in this world that’s outside denial and selfishness. The ESD plan makes sense, because it is already happening on its own (Humboldt, Eugene, etc.). Many of the areas the Raven suggests we take over are likely to be swamped with refugees if the country slides much further into chaos and martial law. Without this plan, the ecology of these endangered regions is seriously threatened.

...A strange bird, but I kind of liked him, shabby and perfidious as it was. ...

Who’s paranoid?


"ESD "Squawk! : "Eco-social Defense , "Caw, Caw"




CHAPTER TWO: NETWORKS OF LIGHT

************ OUR STORY BEGINS:

Her Elven name was Anaya. For thousands of years she was the Forest Keeper of Lorien. Most of this time she sat in meditation at the heart of the ancient grove where Lorien had taught her the Patterns of Life and the Nature of Things.

The last five years she had followed a group of young forest defenders. From afar she came to know them well as she shared their hard times and their moments of victory and celebration. These young people and thousands like them believed so strongly in the need for action that they came together in circles of friendship, tribes, permanent affinity groups where bonds of love and trust grew out of closeness and sharing until a new magic was discovered.

They believed in the Elves, in the Powers, and in themselves. Most of the world was beginning to thrash through a difficult transformation. It was this traumatic transition period from one world to another which the real healers feared would consume many lives unless they acted decisively. And so many healers and people who had vision came to the forest camps and the scattered communities of the Northwest. They embraced Eco-Social Defense, the front-line strategy and pretty much whatever the youth told them had to be done. A deep cultural revolution began to take hold. Even many locals who used to blindly hate the eco-freaks embraced this new way of peace and coexistence. Together they began to learn a "green survival"... maybe the world could still learn.

Anaya first recognized that this particular group of forest defenders were the Chosen at EWOK II. As she looked up at the protesters' tree village high in the Redwoods and heard Brione and Amnesia talking to the moss and reaching out their love, she knew beyond doubt. And Aire with Redwood needles all matted in his curly black hair could surely be an Elf, except they never have dark hair. Maybe New York Gnome ? The Sheriffs could rarely spot him whether he was hiding in some logging slash or even walking right behind them. They were unraveling hidden, Elven Lore and Anaya wondered how long before they became aware of her. Even though the Chosen rarely talked about their new feelings and insights, the Forest Keeper withdrew her presence somewhat, waiting until they were ready.

We are rising up like a Phoenix from a Fire,
Brothers and Sisters spread your wings and fly higher
We are rising, we are ri... s... ing...
We are opening, We are o oO... pen... ing

That Autumn and the following year Anaya kept her watch as the Chosen grew and learned more about the struggle ahead. Despite the interference of the Ego-Cult, the love and excitement of the Forest Defenders attracted many young people to the cause of Eco-Social Defense. The word spread and this new kind of kinship and Spirit-Power was contagious.

Anaya returned to the Sacred Grove to connect the vibrations and discern the paths they might take.

It was no surprise to the Elves when the following summer a moratorium on most logging was hastily agreed to. There were so many defenders contesting every timber sale that neither the government nor the corporations could afford enough security forces to continue business as usual. There were worse problems elsewhere. The collapse of the Global Economy was sucking the USA into a chaos it would never rise out of. And people knew it - society was drifting in hopelessness. The riot threat and a turn toward uncontrollable violence were on many people’s minds.

So far everything had been peaceful, in the North Coast region. A lot of logging equipment was destroyed here and there, but few injuries or assaults occurred. Tension was building and Forest Defenders put effort into reaching out to all people.

One poster read:
Dear People of Lorien: we the Forest People - your neighbors - ask for patience. None of us, alone, can change what is happening. The government and even common sense have misled many people. Excessive consumption, economic growth, and trusting the corporations were mistakes. Blaming each other will help no one. Fear will divide us if we don’t resist our programmed emotions. Calm and hopeful cooperation can win the day.

People continue to move here for sanctuary and to save the forests. Most have good hearts and seek only refuge, purpose and peace. You find life’s meaning in hard work, church, and security for your families. We work hard surviving and defending what we love. The forest and everything living there is Sacred to us. Without healthy ecosystems few will survive the hard times ahead. Road building and clearcuts have taken the Salmon away that could have fed us all, but it’s not too late to begin the restoration of this wondrous land we are so fortunate to live in.

Changes are not easy. We have to believe in a way for all who love this region to live and work together. Our dreams need patience and a sincere desire to understand each other, or they will fail. No alternative avoids all violence and discomfort. Don’t condemn any group for the rash actions of a few individuals. The government will discredit or kill forest defenders. They want division and people afraid of each other... but it won’t work this time.

Creative and future-looking people from all perspectives will grasp what will be and what has to be done to get us there. Isolation and our Ranger Defense will stop the government from intervening in our experiment in cooperation if we are united or at least restrained. As an act of trust and good faith, Forest Defenders and the Eco-Commandos will begin a cease-fire and no new lands will be occupied within Lorien. The Logging and Mining Moratorium will be enforced. Electricity may not be available and transportation will be disrupted. But we will still have our fertile soils, our forests and our spirit to sustain us.

Come and visit our camps and farms. We have food at our table for anyone who cares about peace and sharing. For Autonomy and Survival. -- The Forest People: El Norte Command


Peace held on in many places that Fall and Winter. The Free-States took root and made their history. Food donations were abundant and a wild variety of shelters popped up across the land. A few truck drivers were injured when they resisted confiscation of their loaded log trucks. Three young people died attempting to bomb a major electric substation near the Siskiyou-Lassen boundary.

Anaya knew what would happen next but much of the world was turning gray to her. Something was wrong, something changing the possibilities. Something she couldn’t reach.
And Death stalked the very heart of the Wildwood. Decay and the toxic hate of souls lost to evil’s touch, reached unto the edges of the Sacred Groves. Shadows grew boulder, lingering, waiting...

Elvenkind knew their final hour approached. In need they would make their final offerings and go back into the land and elements they came from. Always passive and nonviolent except for a few roads and bulldozers, the elves waited and watched as humans destroyed the forests and killed each other. Lorien, Goddess of the Wildwood, found her powers fading as did other of the Minor Powers. Magic was being drained into some spell or wish of infinite complexity. The Wildwood was dying with its magic. Elven children all died at birth and the souls of these tortured ones were trapped for some reason. These are the Wildryns of which little is known.

Now, perhaps too late, Lorien guides the Forest Keepers to work with humans who in their heart of hearts desire to live simple and heal the planet. And the Wild-Fire went out to people’s dreams so they relived the journey and struggles of a thousand generations of their ancestors... and what life was truly about through time and change. The Shadows were pushed back for now and fears subsided, allowing everyone a pause to think before they wasted their last chances ... Their Last Wish.

*****************************************************************


Hazel parked her mountain bike next to Kith’s and lay back in the grass and weeds next to the snag of an ancient Douglas Fir. Years of living wild out in the forests brought her many new skills, but the one she valued most was just being able to settle down and become part of your surroundings. Soaking up everything and tuning into the details around you.

You could never be alone once you knew Nature, she thought, as she watched the woodpeckers chipping away at the old tree above. It felt good to be a Forest Defender, to be in these times, doing something... seeking a way that was beneficial... she let her thoughts drift and Nature surround her.

The sound of footsteps roused her from peaceful daydreams and she pushed herself up on one elbow to watch Kith coming around the corner of the road. She couldn’t see too well through the branches but the dark ruffled hair and the dirty Carhart woods pants assured her that it had to be him. She knew almost every stitch on the numerous patches that barely held his lucky pants together. It wasn’t that he liked looking sloppy. She knew, he was just too busy to care much about appearances. Besides, he still thought that he had her to help out in that department... he used to have her that is.

She wanted to find out what had happened at the big meeting, but she also wanted just to listen and to be there for him… As for the chasm that threatened their friendship since they had broken up a few months ago, well, she wanted that chasm to mend, but she felt that it was out of her hands now and probably for the better. She started to get up as he approached until he launched himself down next to her and rolled over on his back holding his head like he didn’t know whether he wanted comfort or to end it once and for all in a mighty squeeze.

"Hey, Kith, why so glum?" Hazel asked, her green eyes seeking to hold his and capture a glimpse of his true feelings. He didn’t exactly answer unless you count his eyes which rolled up and then closed tight.
"Oh, yeah, the meeting, how could I forget?"
And then she added automatically and not the way she wanted:
"You didn’t walk out on them again, did you?"

Though only twenty years old, she had been to more meetings and endless attempts at contrived consensus than almost anyone. She chided herself for the way she had asked Kith that last question, the tone she often used without thinking, the tone of authority that she couldn’t shake... the thing that got her in trouble enough times... and with Kith and a few other guys too. Fortuitously, a spunky chipmunk scampered up to them and stood with its head moving from one to the other as if accusing them both of being silly and human…

Hazel wanted to shout at the innocent creature: "why do I have to be the one who knows everybody and all the factions, the splinters - and knows them so well too? I'll do anything - whatever it takes - but Gods! It’s really weird, like being Chosen by circumstance with a pile of crazy pieces trying to put themselves back together.

She looked closer at her 'old' friend, her soft eyes trying to speak kindness and wanting him to talk … about the meeting, anything, but Kith’s attention stayed absorbed with the chipmunk who he watched intently as if she wasn't even there.

He knows I'm here for him. ... Open eyes kept insisting…

Kith still didn’t answer and Hazel rose up slightly to face him. The chipmunk scurried away at the motion and Hazel sat picking the pine needles and twigs out of her long blond braids. Kith stopped watching the chipmunk running away and moved closer to Hazel’s side. Finally, a slight smile broke across his face. Tensions eased away and she knew he was happy that she had waited for him.

Kith spoke as he rubbed her knee, "Do you know it seemed like that chipmunk was trying to tell us something. He probably felt my grumpiness and wanted to remind me how animals are supposed to be."

He sat up too and put one hand on hers, "No, I didn’t run away from the meeting. And I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t. Same old problems though. People’s fears holding them back and their egos keeping them apart. When will we ever let go of the old ways?" he said. Weariness showed through his cynicism. He shook his head and stretched his arms up as Hazel came closer giving him a little hug before she jumped up and grabbed his hand to pull, "I know, let’s go to the cliffs by the beach. Come on," and she pulled him all the way up without much reluctance on his part.


Gliding swiftly along the forest trails they knew so well, the two friends enjoyed the smells of the trees and the sounds of little birds chirping busily about their ways.

Kith felt comfort to be out in the solitude with just Hazel. Sometimes they were so right for each other. Then other times... He remembered a year ago when things seemed simpler if crazier. The two of them used to ditch everyone else and head out into the wilds ... to be alone in their special places. Laying in the grass at the forest’s edge, half sun, watching small white clouds cross the blue sky. Easily letting problems disappear... holding each other till sunset and imagining it would last forever.

... And when they first met: She was so young, yet wisdom in common sense imbued her every act. Vitality and youthful invincibility fairly poured from her soul. It was easy to believe that anything was possible with Eve (Hazel’s old forest name) high on the forest.

"I loved her as the Goddess immanent - strong, confident, innocent yet wary. I was captivated. To me, the rest of the world held spellbound when we were alone and I looked into the well of youth that glimmered from deep in her dark eyes. We connected easily from the start - brother, sister, friend, could-be lover - it was the magic that surprised me most. I thought my search for a magical soul-mate was a lost cause, a fantasy. But there we were walking away from the sabotage strike, stealthy, naturally ... in tune with the land and the howling storm, the lashing rain ...

We knew then how lucky we were to find each other. Two rebel souls with such passion for the magic of dark stormy nights, old forests, and companions in danger. Together without fear, we were good at our work. We drank deeply of each other’s essence, doubting only how long the Fates would leave us... so comfortable.
A wish ... it pushed up through his thoughts, "For us... "
and then he stopped... letting it go. They had decided already... and he wondered
why those shadow thoughts kept trying to insinuate so forcibly.

Skirting the sand dunes, they followed along the edge of the forest, until they got to the higher ground where they could get out to the cliffs. They could see far out into the gray-blue sea and down the coastline to where the lighthouse stood.

Gulls circled and Hazel threw a pinecone out, seeing if they would go for it.

"It’s a beautiful October day. So, warm. I wonder when the rains will start this year.
The rains mellow people out. Gives you focus ... for awhile anyway," Hazel said, hoping Kith wanted to talk, here in this place they had always treasured … Green eyes seeking his blues...

He just sat there staring out at the ocean. Then he started laughing and shaking his head, and laughing some more. She came over and knelt behind him, squeezing his shoulders where she knew he was always stiff.

"You, gonna let me in, or is the joke on me?" she asked, squeezing extra hard for a second. He looked back at her a little as he reached up to touch her hand.

Pushing some stray hairs back behind his ear he said,
"Remember how funny we were a couple years ago, like always looking for trouble... and Aire getting new people all excited about direct actions, tree-sitting and all rearin to go, ready to do things they never would have considered. And pulling it off!"

"Oh yeah, I stayed out of most of those actions. It’s a wonder nobody..."

But Kith continued, "Well, I started thinking about that drunk logger who came into camp in the middle of the night with a half full bottle of whiskey and he started yelling
‘Are you all Crazy, I mean are you crazy or what!’ and Katia just standing there looking at him."

Hazel grinned and started to laugh, saying, "Katia didn’t know whether to call
for help or just watch him, when Aire and D-fly came up with a guitar and said:
‘Howdy, know any songs?’"
Kith nodded enthusiastically and continued,
"And we played song after song: rap, country, Goddess chants. And the logger played some cool songs too, while we finished off his whiskey. The last thing he said was,
‘you are all totally crazy, yep, but, you’re all right.’

We told him to join us and I think he did show up at some forest action last year."
Kith finished the tale and resumed his look-out, staring blankly into the distance of the gray-blue waters.

Hazel paused and came around to sit on a rock by his side.
"So, what made you think of that old story?"
"Oh, just trying to think of funner times when we thought we could do anything ...
and it was all more of a game."
"Like, performance art and creating chaos here and there," Hazel added.

He didn’t seem too stressed out she thought, but she was determined to stay upbeat
or at least solutions-oriented. So, she held back from mentioning some of the hard times they had shared back in the day: cops and jails, and people getting beat up.

"It was great," she said truthfully as memories of the two of them in love also tried to come out.. "But look at all we’ve done. We never really believed we’d get this far so quick."

She breathed in the salty ocean air and enjoyed this moment in the sunshine. The day was waning and a few clouds gathered on the horizon.
"So, come on, tell me what’s up, buddy."

Kith smiled and squeezed her hand, knowing she was watching him and reaching out.
He sat there a while longer, listening to the silence and the waves down below.

"Well I better tell you. There’s good news and bad news. You already know about the music festivals. It’s all set; they’ll be at those spots that we picked out last Spring. And the watershed councils are totally rad. There’s thousands of people camping responsibly - believe it or not - up on Elk River and at old Mrs. Walker’s ranch. All over the place, people planting trees and mending fences. Old people, from everywhere are joining in - restoration projects, helping new-comers. ... I swear, it sounds like we’ll win the elections."

Hazel butted in saying, "Just in time I’d say. Things might fall apart any day, down south you know. Go on, what about Defense and our plans?"

"Hummmmn," Kith sighed.

"Well, Brione and I tried to talk ‘what ifs’ and contingencies, we really did. But Namoia and Daniel drug on and on about caution and waiting. They’re paranoid, still worried cause they don’t trust us or figure us radicals will ruin the image. Shit, most people are as ready as us for... well, for something to happen. Oh, yeah, the Militia.

They’ve pretty much taken over inland. I don’t know if they cut a deal with the Feds or what, but there are thousands of refugees in Haymarket and maybe more in Redwing. So..."he hesitated, looking awkwardly at her.

"So... what?" she demanded.

"Namoia proposed that a woman Forest Defender with ties to the Eco-Commandos be our representative to the Militia meeting,... someone peaceful, but strong willed..."

Hazel gave him a stern look and said flatly: "Who is it?"
He grimaced a little and leaned away saying softly, "You, Hazel..."
"Who!?"
"I agreed at the time..."
"You what? I told you I didn’t want to do that!"

"I know, I know. I’m sorry..."
"Arggh," was all she said as she got up and pretended to karate chop his neck.
Right there - that spot that hurts him...

As she turned away, Kith said,
"It was late ... I didn’t want to argue with them anymore... never again if I can help it.
Come on Hazel, you can go with someone else. Just don’t worry so much."

She tried to calm down, but her green eyes were still burning intense when she turned around and said with a sting, "Don’t tell me what to do. Don’t tell me not to worry, and next time ...don’t speak for me...

Damm it!"

And then letting her breathe out, "Oh, Kith I’m sorry. Let’s not fight.
Why are we always like this?"

"It’s my fault... I always..."

"Shhh," she whispered and came closer, leaning against him like a board.

He waited a moment, rubbing his head into hers a little. He pulled her hair back away from her face and gave her a slight smile,

"Hey. Cheer up. Brione got me a note saying we’re still on for Blacks Meadow. Tomorrow.... no more phony meetings. Just us Forest Defenders for awhile."
She nodded and tried to think positive. A shadow seemed to blur her thinking and she pondered his words: easy for him to say... ‘Cheer up.’ He’s off to Denver with Miya, while I’m stuck here...

...Friends gathered in a circle... a face of wonder within the lights... an elf who looks familiar. Power in the Forest... coldness descending, enwrapping...

Kith trembled, a shiver running down his back.
He opened his eyes wondering why Hazel was mad at Miya. "What did she do, who was that?"

Hazel opened her eyes and quivered as she looked at him. Gulping a deep breath, she said,
"Oh Gods... that’s weird."
"I felt something too," Kith added. The wind started to blow and their emotions spun wildly.
"Hey, there’s a dark thunder cloud out there."

Lightning flickered briefly a few miles away. The wind blew hard through his hair and he remembered storms. Sneaking out his window, ten years old, to climb a tree or up on the roof. Wanting the lightning to come and it would. Or so it seemed to him and his young friends. Wind and rain howling and the three of them loving it. Talking about wishing up a better world or just messing things up for fun. Getting back at them ...

And later, going camping for months with Aire and Tim. Making shelter in wild storms deep in the wilderness. Loving the wild powers of Nature. Being an animal, free for awhile. Encounters with steep canyons and ancient trees along the way. He felt Hazel holding his arm and a few raindrops blowing down.

I ... lucky, I didn’t get killed, he thought. But the excitement - the thrill - was there.
It kept him going even though he longed for all of them to just be together... on the farm they always wished for. Horses and all set for the winter.

"Horses," he said out loud.

"Kith, let’s go. It’s late," she said, shaking his arm again.


Mixed shades of greens and muddy browns glistened in the light rain as they traveled back the trail and down the hill toward their bikes. Hazel was thinking about all these feelings and the image of Kith surrounded by cold, evil... shadows.

She slowed her bike and waved goodnight as Kith rode on alone, down the hill toward Aire’s cabin. A sensation passed suddenly and Hazel realized something else. It was time for her to say good-bye for a long while, to her little farm and this whole neighborhood of friends and supporters. Time to say farewell to the only home she had known the past four years... the only place she had ever felt secure.

From here on out , it would be nothing but high security: safehouses, restricted communications, and lots... and lots of trust, faith, luck, wishes...

"Is everything falling apart or coming together? So much tension and Ego tearing at people, couples, groups. The desire to come together in these troubled times. I guess it takes the energy level up so high, we all end up haywired - looped."


Searching for joy, her thoughts went back to the Base Camp she had just visited. All the young people were so tight, and they knew Rei-Ki now too. Anarchist - Punk, riff-raff kids. Practically half of some camps were really serious youth under twenty- years-old, serious but definitely light-hearted ! She smiled at remembering the young girl admonishing an elder to put waste into the correct recycling bins. Respect, yes, but deference to age - not likely anymore.

"Maybe I'm losing touch with them. I know how they feel inside: a generation or two of broken families, dissed by all the lazy Baby-Boomers they could never look- up to. Nobody to look- up to, only a dying landscape of endless Yuppie-dom and plastic culture, life and the End Times all speeding up at them. Now choosing their own culture, voting with their feet - since democracy in America is such a joke. ‘Life is magic when you start to break free,’ is their new motto. They consult the healers and they listen to new voices, hearing, clearly, the call of the Forest and Nature's simple ways." And she wondered if maybe, Brione's wish worked there too like her wishes now guided the Core Group of the Forest Defenders.

"Well, youth aren't waiting for nobody ever again. They are the vitality that spurs on change. Society provided no outlet for kids to engage their creative intellects - their passion for action. They made it happen on their own. Boredom saved the day or the forests at least, so far. Not really so difficult for them, in a way, since youth had nothing to go back to. They just walked away, in disgust, as far away from the Old World and its pitiful claims of 'techno-glory' as they could get. They found the magic in each other and in just the simple things around them, living in Nature - no attachments - just living and sharing joy.

The healers have joined them now ... and witches too ! They're all working together, to keep the peace, relieve stress, and who knows. Something's up, I know it. I’m sure it’s got to be good. Probably everything will work out and come together nicely if we just let it happen. People are going to do what they want to do.

That one Healer, the one with the powerful eyes and the freckles, she told me : ‘The 'Three Fires' shall burn as One. Love guides rage into a pattern of Gaia Self-Defense. Patterns of defense connect to Earth's design. Gaia calls youth to come and transcend the mistakes of the past - to show us the way. The Healers come to follow the young. Healing and ancient ceremony bring strength to their cause.

The meaning of the New Trinity reveals itself as alive, living here in the Forest Camps. Send us the refugees, and ...all your "lost birds." We will heal each other and learn a new way of sharing: Nature, Simplicity, and Letting Go.’"

Hazel wondered why she wasn’t more nervous and very concerned. Somehow, it felt right. Everything: the meeting, Kith, the plan. Of course, they were committed at this point. There aren’t many choices once you know what you want. A strange moment of clarity passed and she knew: vibrations set patterns in motion. Ripples have unknown effects.

And then she felt that quivery feeling again like she had felt at the beach cliffs with Kith. The freckled face of the healer flickered before her eyes and she had another vision:

Happy, crowds at the Music Festivals, waving their hands... Brione waving someone ... away?

And then it was gone, though she thought maybe the healer’s face changed at the last second and something was strange about her ears...

"Visions or it wasn’t exactly a vision, more like a feeling of something about to happen or.. I don’t know but at least that one wasn’t scary like the shadows around Kith." She had never had visions like these, but she had heard about many people experiencing them more frequently lately and weird dreams too. She used to think it was all mostly made-up or crazy. Things change and the truth is almost always ridiculed at first...like the plan.

A year ago when they first discussed the secret plan, she thought they were all crazy, especially Dingo !. But now, it seemed everyone supported it. And the Ranger Defense! Deterrence against attacks... maybe, or... provocation, violence, ambushes...
"One more month, Gods ! Can the Coalition hold that long?"

Well, Brione would be there, she thought. She’s the strong one, hard-core to da bone. Hazel shook the raindrops off her hat. She thought about warm tea and Angela inside the house. Sleep... trying too hard not to think about visions and journeys to come. She sucked on her upper lip, teething it slightly, as she often did.

Hazel put her bike under the roof and was startled out of her drifting thoughts... a clear realization dawned in her that she needed to dream, needed to let it out. Her time had come, a time when you know you can accept ... you rise to the occasion ... you cast doubts aside and trust to friends and wishes.

"Brione knows. She tried to tell me about wishes and how things were changing."
Hazel pondered the nature of the changes that she was only vaguely aware of and then she relaxed and pictured Brione’s face: beautiful, wide cheek-bones, and big brown eyes. Eyes that looked like they wanted to play with you, always twinkling, and mischievous, of a harmless, teasing sort. Such a tomboy in many ways - daring the guys ... lanky, wiry, sexy.
Brione’s hair was so short now ... no more colors or streaks showing, just her old medium brown look. Part of her look. Still getting taller too. Gods ! Brione...


Expectant and conflicted, she tapped lightly on the driftwood knocker before she opened the door to the cabin. A greeting to Angela passed unspoken when she saw her friend’s finger pursed at her lips in a warning to be quiet. Angela’s toddler lay across her mother’s lap with its head back and mouth open. Angela’s dark eyes rolled and Hazel could only guess at how long a time it had taken to get the child asleep, and still not quite in bed. Syanni or "Dulce Mulci" as Angela was fond of calling her one-year-old daughter, was always a handful. Her mom learned patience through the late-night wakings, the cries and worries. Now she needed all of her mothering skills to wean Syanni off the tit without wearing herself crazy.

Angela was one of the strongest spirited persons Hazel had ever known, but she could see that haunted look that didn’t need explanations between friends who were this close. Hazel knew that the counting-the-days and the imminent pain of separation must be hell on Angela. So, Syanni had to be weaned in a few days because her aunt, Abuelita Rosa Hererra would soon arrive to take the girl North to a safer place. Who knew how long it might be before things settled down again?

Hazel quietly passed Angela in the rocking chair to get a clean mug from the counter by the dripping sink. The herb was stored just to the right of the window where a multitude of small plants and a few cuttings competed for kitchen space that most people preferred to keep clear. Dirt crumbs and dead leaves... She looked over all the solid brown-tinted jars that kept the herbs fresh: Yerba Buena, Yerba Santa, Raspberry leaf... mullein. She settled on the new Chamomile batch that had just arrived from down river and their friends’ farm near the coast.

A bit of Willow Bark went along with the Chamomile into the tea-ball. The kettle simmered as usual on a cool fall evening and Hazel found there was still plenty left for her tea with some left over. She considered the small blue bottle with the tincture of Absinthe and Mugwort, but finally decided that she wouldn’t need any help dreaming this night.

It seemed like an awful lot was still left to be decided, but she didn’t really feel in turmoil about anything specific. Well, except that is for Kith’s volunteering her to go visit the Militia leaders ...Or first! She was off to try and reach these violent leaders of the mostly fundamentalist militia and then to quickly get them all to agree on a safe meeting place... and an agenda for cooperation and trust.

Hazel pointed to her cup, offering to get some for Angela. But Angela shook her head, no as her gaze went back down to the baby. Syanni turned over slightly and the "little one" let out a small sigh as she fussed and nudged her head around in the instinctive search for milk and comfort. Angela rose smoothly and scooped the not-so-lightweight child up in her arms as she headed for the back bedroom.

Alone and tired, Hazel sipped her tea without honey this time. And she wondered if she should be trying to talk Angela out of going on the next mission with the Eco-Commando unit from Canada, a professional but sometimes rowdy group who had been down south in Lorien for a series of expert training sessions. The three weeks of training were over and now they were getting ready to tackle a couple of hard-core power-plant attacks on their way back up to the Northlands.

The hand-worn picture frame hung from the pine shelf boards. The photograph of the child’s father showed a thin teenager in a cutoff t-shirt with a red and black bandana tied to his bare arm. Ramon’s large masked face beamed at you and made you smile back because you couldn’t help but feel his warm open smile –even through a mask!

Another smaller black and white photo curled slightly where it stuck into the side of the larger frame. It showed a young Ramonito waving his hat and smiling with his Sandinista comrades - out the back of a truck. The same truck from which a young Ramon would impossibly escape a fiery death only a few days after this picture had been taken. Tragically, the scene had repeated with many civilian and army trucks falling prey to the terror attacks of the counter-revolutionary Contras. With an easy disdain for National, International and World Court Laws the USA continued this highly illegal operation of intervention against one of the poorest countries in the world. A country that only had a few million adults in it. A country still suffering terribly from ten years of civil war, a century of exploitation of Los Pobres, major earthquakes and hurricanes yet to come.

One couldn’t look at Ramon’s picture and not be hopeful, but Ramon had been missing for two weeks and worse yet, Angela was about to jump in and take his place with the Canadian Commando unit. And she hardly even knew them or how to do the newest techniques for directed-charge settings and timers. Hazel almost bit down on her lip as she chewed on it and shook her head, perplexed. "Compassion seems crueler than doing nothing sometimes, I swear. I’m supposed to be developing my decision skills, but I spend most of my time learning when not to butt in... or at least how not to butt in on other groups."

She admired Angela’s drive and determination. The girl had talent and stamina too. Now though, she faced a difficult inner struggle and her poor friend would have to fight to control that cold touch of revenge.

Brione had said twice "Not to worry...Hazel.. absolutely OK."
But Hazel guessed that the underlying feeling that bothered at her incessantly, was the unfairness. The endless unfairness of Ramon’s disappearance. All the sacrifices that many of them were about to make. Angela having to risk it all again when so many others shirked away irresponsibly. It is often the few who will dare anything that push prophesy along and make the big difference.

She poured more water in her mug and went over to the sink to fill the kettle with spring water from the tap. A few more sips of the weak tea and Hazel decided there was no way she could be compassionate to Angela and to herself at the same time. The whole thing was just too hard for her to be objective about. From her studies of the similarities between Witch Craft, Rei-Ki and Machiavelli she heeded well the maxim: "There can be no hidden subjective attachments when you do compassionate action or you risk creating an avoidable wrong."
"There has to be a way forward in-between doing nothing and creating catastrophes. But I can’t hardly even think of a decent wish, except to wish that Brione is right, that all these things have to happen and we just have to breeze through the gaps in our plans…

… But what about the holes in our armor?"

The tea and the whole day were having their relaxing effect. Since Angela didn’t come back into the main room Hazel let the warm feeling settle through her. She yawned wide as she sat down on the futon nearest the stove and took off her shoes. In minutes that could have been hours to such heavy eyes the dreams came on and then later there were dreams that weren’t dreams.
One hand clutched the comforter but that’s not what she saw. It was a lucid vision and behind it, so ghostly, was the slow-fading image of Angela. Older-looking, the mother sat in the chair rocking as she waterproofed her boots like they were her baby... The cold dark metal of the large pistol mirrored by its shadow in the dark stained wood of the nightstand. A coldness that soaked up the candle light.

A middle-aged woman, not too old, stood by a stone wall against a backdrop that had no perspective. Time swirled when the woman sang. Winds that you knew came from another world howled and yet the woman’s dry wispy hair barely wavered. She sang out strongly as if against those winds, her mouth wide and her back straight.

Words in an ancient tongue danced with meaning and visions of thundering horse hooves.
The woman’s eyes grew hugely insane and the pounding, pounding, tearing hooves ripped gouges across them. The pattern that is made from meaning danced in her eyes too and then they looked down and beheld that the swirling vision was also the arms of a boy reaching out and the thrashing hooves of the wild horses were really the sharp movements of the boys hands reflecting new patterns and shaping, flowing, a weave of light strands.

Young hands of great confidence followed the trails of the light web and then they followed him, back and forth they went until a great display of patterns revolved in space with intricate symbols spinning there and turning inside out, faster until it all began to fold in, encasing something, a sound and then just the tinniest hesitation...

The spell fell apart with a stronger thump and Hazel moaned as the shudder passed through her. Her body squirmed when she felt part of her consciousness returning, but still her eyes and her dream consciousness stayed riveted on the fading symbols’ glowing outlines. Hazel tried to absorb those symbols. She intuitively knew that something here had meaning or a use of possibly great importance.

An echo came off the thump of the spell’s death and then it was all there bright and clear again for a moment. She felt the echo of the boy’s hesitation again too and she recalled her own moments of doubt that had happened over the years at the wrong time or the worst possible time. All the times she let her internal dialog slow her reflexes and nearly create deadly hesitations.

The Voices of children laughing...came again just as an explosion of colors cascaded out from the burning symbols... In that light Hazel saw the children dancing in abandon as they sang and then their chanting revealed for only a split second a thing or maybe a feeling that sought life...It twisted and yearned for expression ... a sense of turmoil, layered with uncertainties. Not simply the struggle of the Light and the Dark. No. ...and not the obvious, determined to join with the mysterious... Something from the gray or from the patterns around that part of the vision emanated a presence.

Hazel felt keenly its desire to speak about the patterned meanings of this event that Hazel shared with it. And she was as certain as anything in her life that this presence wanted her to understand something. A vague impression that "attitude was important in de-coding these riddles" was all she caught hold of as the scene shifted distinctly. Mixed messages drummed on at the edge of her awareness as the lights rose up with the ghost-images of the children. The name "Wildryns" came into Hazel’s head. She didn’t know what it meant but it had to concern the children who were dancing upward right before her eyes. Of that she felt sure.

Rapidly all color began to drain away and the zero-perspective flatness returned as a looming door swung toward her closing... Something else yearned for its own awakening there in the shadow of that closing door. She didn’t like this thing that hid its boldness and its ugliness. It made her feel as if the thing could casually look into the scarier parts of her persona –parts she also liked to hide... And then a picture of overlaid eyes filled her brain. A different door closed somewhere else or some time-else. For the briefest second it seemed that she experienced total pain and abhorrent evilness... then she felt an unexpected power.

Hazel realized she was awake and repeating the words:
"the same old Illusion that keeps parts not even aware that they are missing - separated - yearning."
She remembered ... the young face looking at her through the silver mist and her own questions mirrored back, like he said, "You're doing good. We'll find a way... work together."
... Eyes opened from warm covers, "Who? ...what do you…"

She mumbled to herself, not her dreams:
"Nope, mmmm. Not. ...not even going there … again."


*********************************************************************************


A faint presence faded in the West, as they turned the last sharp curve, going north. Bumping along a dusty ex-logging road, Brione enjoyed the darkness. Scars hidden in the deepening night. The truck came to the highest spot on the road and then it rolled on downhill into a cool touch and the stillness of the older forest’s moist sanctuary. Brione could relax now and gratefully she took a slow deep breath of the fresh mountain air. She watched the stars through the tree branches and thought about all the other nights like this one: the crazy "Earth-Night" actions that they were famous for. "Where are all those funny-folks?" she wondered aloud.


The driver swerved suddenly. The truck running with only its parking lights on, she couldn’t tell for sure if it was a Raccoon or a Possum that they had nearly struck, but it did make it across to the side of the road. A flicker of rage glared from the animal’s eyes -whatever it was- as it disappeared off the steep side of the road. They managed to ride the deep rut with one tire almost off the edge until they could get safely back on the roadway. They smiled without looking at each other: those smiles of shared relief from a close-call, in mutual safety … and survival. They each gave thanks as well that they had made it to the drop-off un-molested.

Brione closed the truck’s door and bent down to lift up her backpack.
The driver looked back for her ‘all OK’ hand signal and the truck pulled away as she dropped off the side of the road. A short bushwhack brought her to the right trail for Black’s Meadow.

She paused, breathing quietly and listening.


Nineteen years old and more active in Forest Defense than anyone, Brione still truly beamed with innocence. A child veteran she was and a mature young woman who brought the truth out in whoever she spoke to. Old people, loggers, anyone would almost always listen to her. They knew she cared about them too, and not just her own friends or the trees. People never questioned her sincerity because she really did want to hear what everyone had to say. She never interrupted others and her words lacked the bite or the tense reactive feelings that typically caused communication to breakdown into pointless arguments.

Brione came to these woods often. A place where they had fought many battles to save the ancient forest, the watersheds and the salmon. You could clearly see the battle lines of those wars, the scarred beauty. Stark contrasts of dry, brushy clear-cuts that ended abruptly at the face of towering green walls – walls of three hundred-foot trees which marked the point where they had finally silenced the chainsaws.

It was dark going down the path. Across muddy skid trails left by bulldozers, and around the canyon turn where the giant ferns thrived, Brione’s long legs, conditioned through years of action - guiding, swept her along with ease. The full moon rose high enough to light up the forest. Soon she made the turn-off and crossed the ridge down the last hill.

Taking care on the disturbed hillside, she came down to the hollowed-out base of Venus, a giant Cedar tree where she had slept many nights. Water trickled softly nearby as it traveled from a small spring down through the underbrush to the creek bed. Occasionally the pure silence of the place was broken by the sound of large rain drops falling randomly onto green leaves. These giant trees harvested some of their own water from the mists which drifted through their upper branches. Right on cue the staccato chattering of the resident flying squirrels echoed in through the branches followed by the swoosh of Owl’s wings as he glided purposefully through the grove of trees.

Brione stood near the tree resting and soon all thoughts of going over her notes again or of writing in the journal dissipated into the night sky. She loved the darkness and the solitude of night time in an ancient forest.

"Not tonight," she whispered to the thousand-year-old tree as she caressed its shaggy bark with her palm and fingers.

After a few minutes of quiet and meditation, she lit a small bees-wax candle and set out her sleeping bag. With the sound of branches rubbing high above her in a light breeze, Brione slipped into a deep, natural sleep. Safe there in the womb of an old friend, she dreamed.
She remembered thinking: "do all kids grow up playing in the woods and streams making friends with the land," as she ran through her dream and across the rickety footbridge after her younger sister, Branwyn, the two of them sliding down the steep dirt and forest litter path to the stream. They watched bubbles and sticks dropping down waterfalls then off they would go with the water’s course their guide. Always the two of them jumping rocks and showing off. Spellbound by a moth or a snail, amazed at all the variety of life. Feeling the magic calling... and afraid to listen, but yet drawn there... wanting to learn more... to be different. Raindrops freshened, making the colors glow. And everything... and life, should be so simple.

Then, despite the Shadows, or maybe because of them... hiking for weeks, hauling heavy loads, chased by angry loggers. Some friendly ones too, some who saw…and not just a few of them. Some loggers and locals knew how much the forest defenders loved the woods too, just as they did.

"There was that one young boy from over around Willow Creek. He was named Sasha and he often came to our forest camp at Dillon Creek...or was it only twice that he really spent much time there?"

She woke, saying to herself: "He would be older now... and what?" Then she rolled back over listening to the hummingbird nearby. She snuggled in her warm sleeping bag , visions of her younger sister swimming in the river and an arm reaching up to pull her in... Her friends coming to the meadow tonight.

A little frown twitched as she wondered: "Will I ever have kids ?" Skitter-scatter sounds from the little tree mouse who always cleaned up around Venus, reassured her and she drifted off, a smile back on her face.


As the morning’s fog-mist started clearing from below the old growth canopy, Brione made tea and ate some huckleberries. She still felt awe whenever she came to this ancient grove. It always felt like home here beneath Venus and her companion tree Pluto. Many centuries of struggle and growth had created massive trunks as big around as a cabin. Fire scars etched their way upward carving deep into their sides, extending nearly fifty feet above Brione’s head. The shaggy trunks of the ancient tree disappeared hundreds of feet higher, where branches bigger than most trees split off into their own worlds.

And the Imprint... Resting back against a large burl of the tree trunk Brione drank tea and felt at ease even as the flood of memories that lived in this place coursed just beneath her immediate attentions. All the emotions and exhilaration of their long struggle to save this tree, this life-place, from the chainsaws. A place of Power, where battle lines crossed... other Lines of magic, a place where commitments guard against excess and energy circulates through a fountain seeking life and an endless returning.

She finished breakfast and bent over to push the small fire together. A change in the draft caught some green twigs on fire and in the process Brione ended up inhaling a little of the thick blue smoke. The fumes made her eyes water. Something shifted. It was there. That old feeling, coming out of the forest, calling to her, a Power she no longer feared.

A face with a strange presence about it... Three people standing between tall rocks.
Miya... looking weak and fading...

She stayed open to the feeling, not pulling back at all, and this opening up sent a wave forth, out from her. She shook her head, trying to be sure as the forest responded to her once again. She could see with new insight and understanding. She saw new things and she could see herself through other eyes. The Forest Power watched her.

The young activist saw the life-story of her whole land flowing through her: Venus sprouting, struggling, maturing, dreaming. Roots intertwining down and under the hillside, holding, working together, communicating, growing.

"Remember details, be specific, its all there..." was going through her mind as she stared, brown eyes drawn to the base of the hollow tree.

The side of the tree growing by her foot was split into two massive roots. One went straight down the hill. The other root that curved below her was polished and beautiful with a fat, spiraling knot growing out of it several feet high. She saw the texture of the many color shades embedded within the wood and she found herself squeezing the root. Curiously Brione reacted as she felt the fibers... moving ! The root moved, she thought. Her vision shifted back and then awareness became more ordinary.

She looked again: a wrinkled bump, rising, stretching up, alive. A person but also
a root. Brione closed her eyes. She relaxed gathering her center and "looked" out with her other senses as she often did while out hiking in the dark. The confidence from practice... balancing fear, intuition, sensitivity, and need. She spread her senses out around herself probing lightly with her whole being. Calm thoughts projected a willingness to flow together with this place she loved, and all its scents and stirrings.

"You are ready. This is real, dear Brione. Welcome to the Edge of Eald, my forest home,"
said a voice like musical water.

"Who..."

"I am who is here, Anaya the Forest Keeper."

Duff drifted down from the branches above, like blessings or gifts from some critter always busy about their work. Sprinkles of dry needles landed on her head and shoulders as Brione opened her eyes.
She started to fight that slightest of urges, the wish rising up inside, when she heard: "No. Go on. You can use caution and not let it use you."
"For understanding ?"
Brione asked, eyes wide.
She blinked and wished for guidance, for answers.

"What do you really want?"
Anaya asked.

That voice, first of water, now leaves blowing and brambles budding, Brione thought. And she tried to ‘not-think’ and just let feelings open.

"I want to be sure. Sure that our path is fair, just... hurts no one..."
"Be direct, be modest at first," Anaya said, as a curious smile played on her face.

"I wish you to tell me about the Magic." Brione focused and let her mind clear out all doubts.

Anaya uncrossed her arms. She stretched with a flowing dance-like motion and sat down across from Brione. As Anaya reached out to take her hands, Brione saw the oak leaf tattoos, glowing in that other vision she had acquired. There and not there. Twining up Anaya’s shoulders and even under her dark red hair the patterns spread. She tried to see the face, but Anaya’s voice held her riveted to the elf’s eyes – dark blues and swirls of gray, deeper than the ocean.

"It’s not easy to do. Reaching humans gets harder every day. But we have to try.
I know you can do it. You have been doing it for awhile."

"Watch my eyes as I speak. Look beyond me... through my eyes. Listen with your heart... and your whole being. Listen, eyes. Hold the vibrations and separate them. Vibrations...
Suspend your memory, step outside your social programming. Breathe deep and slow... as you sink into another time – across the Gulfs of Now - an endless time when your whole existence is enmeshed with the world of Nature. ... Eyes, listen, memory, time, enmeshed...
Running with the tribe, drums pounding... running. Survival... love... pounding.
Time. Stories passed around the fire ... survival, the hunt, battles, the ways.
Together proud; strong, hunting.
Sustaining the Life-Grid with ancient culture. Connecting song to all things.
Weaving, spinning, being the web. Creating, remembering the relations, the sighted…
Food, Shelter, Art - from Earth, Fire, Water, Spirit." ... and the rhythm of the chant kept beating, throbbing in her head ...
"Yes ! I see it all..."said Brione, as the spell broke over her and she knew the stories, felt the failures and learned the hardest lessons.

A new voice sounded to her... the tinkling of millions of tiny bells ...

"For most of time, magic (intentions linked to purpose and belief) was equally dispersed throughout space. Longings developed desires linked to glory until foolishness became too great for even the Gods to resist. Gods and Goddesses entered the planes of existence and drew some of their magics unto them. Delighting in their creations, these deities sought to outdo each other in crafting greater diversities. But even the wishes of the Gods can come back on them, and they tempted the Nature of their own existence. Thus Chaos entered the Portal and established itself in our portent equations - the structure of our existence. Chaos is not evil, but is taken advantage of by the Shadows of evil folk to hide and abide their spells and tricks. We cannot live long without Chaos – it is like unto a viral decomposer, cleaning up our messes. There are greater dangers to consider.

Lorien, Goddess of Wildwoods, favored one of the creations that sprung forth from her handiwork - the Elves . She struck a deal with Chaos that Elves might live forever. Reactions arise from wishes and bargains. The Nebyakin, you would call them the ‘Fallen Angels,’ they came into the edge of Lorien’s wish and a spell wove itself into the patterns of our evolution. If I could change things I would, but this may be the Time of Doom. For the Nebyakin, Shadow Gods of Retribution, Greed and Madness - the unholy Trinity - they take Power from Chaos now. Their hidden spell of Dark Prophesy tied the energy of Lorien’s love of the Elves to Nebya’s hatred of all things pure and innocent. Elves live on, but humans continue to cultivate greed even in the face of their extinction. Your race traveled far away from ‘love of the land’ and even further away from communion with the animals of your family. This extreme alienation from I who birthed you weakens my magic and bodes evil.

I waited too long. Today’s ego, division and illusions, plague my efforts and so few hear the call of the Earth as strong as they should. The Gods evolve to the myths created in their name. The Balance shifts and powerful imprints of magic and action are drawn into existence. Any moment the entire nature of your whole world and all existence is likely to alter irrevocably.

That is the story we live.

Now, before I tell you why I have come, I will grant your wish. You want to know about the Magic.

There be three types of magic: ELF Lore which is closely connected to the Earth, the soil, plants and animals. Through this you can feel what is happening to the life force for many miles around. The forces of nature connect with you: the brambles will open for you and close behind you; the animals will enter your thoughts and know your needs. All elves and a few humans with our aid can learn to use this magic. As you develop your skills, each individual will find a power they can tap into. A place where their magic is drawn.

Anaya can send dreams and thoughts through the soil and into the sleep of people not surrounded by metal. Some adepts can become an Elk-Deer, a bird, a mouse, a mosquito. For you, Brione, it will come from your voice.

The second type of magic is mostly practiced by human wizards and seers. This usually requires the blessing of a Power or a Goddess who grant protection as you draw from other planes of existence, especially the magical realm of Darnovoi. For most of these wizards all is vague and uncontrollable - feelings and wishes of limited usefulness.

Sometimes a young person or a young adult of considerable innocence will be focused enough and control their wishes, so that great magic may be created for periods of time. It never hurts to make a reasonable wish, just don’t expect much quickly.

If you wish harm or go against the Nature of things, you risk great peril: Sorcery. No protection will help you then and your whole existence will be eaten up by those Dark Wills that inhabit Darnovoi. Such are the times you live in...

The third magic is called Volkenthrogh or the Collective Wish.
Creatures and plants all do this magic as a part of their being. Often it is manipulated toward evil. Rarely has it been used consciously or aggressively. This magic pulls power from all things and all planes, usually slowly in small bits. The elves believe that it can be used to restore the Earth if enough species cooperate and focus their wishes for good."

Lorien’s presence dissipated like sound in the fog… muffled echoes…

Anaya sat holding Brione as the dreams repeated over and over, opening up to understanding, familiarity... power.

Bit by bit, color by color, awareness returned to Brione.

Sun-shafts came, streaking through the forest canopy. The normal sounds of forest life resumed ....She felt good, if a little drained, and her other vision had faded, though small awareness flared, now and again.

She felt Anaya stroking her head. Life and energy filling her up. The words in that strange voice of tinkling bells echoed off her recollections of whom she had been ...yesterday. She had got her wish - to know about the magic. But she could see how all wishes have danger. "This is just the beginning of my learning and my encounters with magic," she thought.

She looked up at the face that held her. Was it young or fresh?
No, not really. Relaxed, but something old as bark and wise too.

"What do you see? Who do you see?" Anaya said.

Visions of the root, the magical flare from that other world, went racing through Brione.

"People see what they want to see. Some see evil and are drawn to it, some see beauty and are afraid."

Anaya wished gently until Brione rose up stretching, asking:
"Where are we going?"

"Blacks Meadow... and places," Anaya motioned and started back up the trail.
Brione picked up her things and followed; going with the flow, accepting, and drawn by a slim silver thread toward interactions of extreme consequence.

They hiked all day, covering a great distance it seemed. Small, leaf-strewn trails and springs that Brione had never encountered despite years of being in the same area. Time hardly existed as they enjoyed the wild country together, talking about trees and herb and how the magic worked. Anaya reminded her of her Mother when she talked about her attraction to certain color shades... or the twinkle in her eyes when Brione would finally grasp some concept they were discussing.

She remembered how rare quality time out in Nature with her Mother had been while growing up. Mother always busy with the Real Estate career or fighting with her Father. And pushing, always insisting Brione succeed: "Make the most of your talents, daughter. Only trust yourself," she had harped so frequently, that the words still rang in her head sometimes..

While stopping to eat some Puff-Balls and wild Filberts, she confided to Anaya,
"Mom was so shocked when I stayed with Dad after the divorce. She still doesn’t believe in me or what we’re doing in Lorien."

Closing her eyes, she wished hard that her mother would read her letter and take it to heart, before it was too late.

Near the top of the canyon, they paused to rest. The sun kept sinking lower, but few shadows were present. For the first time that day, Brione thought of time and wondered about her friends, the gathering. "It must be late," she thought and then she hoped that the meadows were nearby. They left the trail and Anaya ducked under a giant fallen log. A tingling sensation surrounded her and a slight disorientation took hold. The air changed. It felt thicker - alive with magic and life, moist, clean... like another world, a sacred place.

She looked around at the beautiful green canyon they were in.
"It seems so secret, so hidden, like no human has ever been here," she said to the canyon walls, as bees and butterflies buzzed around her. She saw the ten –foot- high sword ferns, varied ground covers, mosses, and the tiny flowers and succulent leaves, all glistening from a fine mist. A small waterfall splashed off polished boulders. She opened her vision too far again, and the magic light flared brightly. She looked up at Anaya with a whimsical frown as she tried to wish her sight back to normal.

"It gets easier. You’ll get used to it just like you’re getting used to me."
Anaya called as she disappeared up behind the waterfall.

Brione smiled and let out a laugh, agreeing with Anaya and wondering what Hazel would think of Anaya’s sense of humor. She had this weird feeling that there was a lot more to everything than she had known. Herself, the Militia, the plan... Anaya’s plan? She skirted the pool and headed up around the boulder where Anaya had gone.

Above the waterfall, she reached another smaller pool where Anaya sat in meditation. Water trickled out of the large rocks above them and Brione felt drawn to drink from one of the larger rivulets that poured out between two polished green rocks. Implications of what water means to...

"Water. All water is sacred," she heard herself thinking. A realization of how that was the problem.. or the symptom. If we could just hold one thing sacred: the Earth or the air or the water... then all would be protected.

She looked up knowing that Anaya wanted to talk.
"Until last winter Solstice, I had a plan. The vibrations and the Patterns of Life revealed a way for us to stop the world. I am still following that plan, but since the Solstice, patterns have changed and become increasingly chaotic. A powerful wish that is not elven nor of the Gods is loose and affecting the whole world. Even our meeting, this talk, is in some measure a part of the Disturbance. The wish seems to come from everywhere. Humans, a few at least, are connected to this, but I can no longer sort things out. Even intentions escape me."


And then Brione realized the words weren’t in her head anymore.

She could hear Anaya say: "I need your help. Come let us meet your friends."


Who is the "Elf’?"... Who can feel "Behind the Mask?"
In "Her" Mirror, are we all Zapatista’s "Pixies" now?

Growing in Concrete compost ...Tracing stories in living leaves
A million suns shedding light ...Giving soul to the vision
Breaking concrete ...opening gates
wishing up participation ...Multitudes together, finally...
Gathering unity in the harvest
gardens growing ... dreams
A smile across ... a moment in time
Reflecting faces round us
A model of love ... A feeling of beauty
Re-assembling our selves ... In new pattern
Power beyond words ...Beyond what is guessed
Solutions... shaped ... One branch at a time
Atop a living ladder ... protecting / protected
our own answers to ... Creations call.


The low clouds lifted and the bluish moonlight cast shadows through the partial fog. The forest edge shifted in the murk and all was quiet.

Fifteen years old and very wise in wood-craft, Sasha drew on the Earth around him as he reached out trying to get a sense of the forest. A hundred yards separated him from his expectant friends and he thought maybe he could pull it off this time.
"...a few ancient trees guarding the north side, lots of thick, brushy Huckleberry and Salal. Everything dry and crunchy in the late Autumn, just before the rains begin… Owl somewhere nearby." And he almost wished he could look through those crystal eyes of Owl.

"But that would surely give me away. There they are … a presence of two, near a rotting old log at the meadow’s edge – excitement pulsating as usual… and alertness, of course."

The horse felt his remonstrations to stay put for awhile and to follow along after him when the urge rose or the tasty browse insisted. A horse with a mind of its own. They both knew the game and the limits.

Sasha relished this playfulness, though he really did want to sneak up on his friends this time. Their powers often matched his own. Trevor, so sensitive to every wish, and Taryn - sharp senses and the quickest reactions he had ever seen.
"A young wizard and an illustrious ninja earth-sprite. Goddess, the tricks they played … and always a clever trap or two…"

A few more steps and Owl hooted almost right in his face, even before the dry branch cracked.

"No choice, I guess," he thought, as he sent out a greeting wish to them… and too late as Taryn said: "Come on out Sasha."

A clever smile to Trevor as her small hands flashed messages.
"Oh well," he thought. They really loved to tease him and to show off their
own considerable skill. Usually, he enjoyed it and this time was no exception.
After all, they were the core of the Youth Vanguard… and they shared all their feelings, if not quite every thought. Owl hooted his call again and then soared down across the moonlit meadow. Hunting Mouse or possibly just a quieter place with less noisy, juvenile magic and so many wishes.

They greeted each other with warm hugs. These three always shared excitement together. It felt great. Hugs lingered, not really aware that their height differences mattered a wit. Awkwardness a part of life... they were already way beyond ...that !

Giggles followed whispers until they settled down and synchronized their breathing. Turns came for each to guide the healing down through a friend.

Life and love poured out of the night sky. The tingly release passed by Sasha's out-stretched hands and pulled worries and unhealthy attachments away from his friend. Trevor's aura radiated strength with that peculiar peak it often exhibited throughout the red-violet spectrum.

"Sizzling," Sasha thought as he felt strongly the pureness of intent and the power of a piercing intuition. The Eu force – the cleansing of Compassionate Truth - encountered few disturbances, hardly a doubt nor even an inclination to fear anything.
"No wonder my small friend, lurking behind that sheepish look and baggy clothes, has such potent wishes," thought Sasha who felt the comfort of giving and sharing closeness with these friends.

Trevor took in a last deep breath and slowly exhaled. He enjoyed the Rei-Ki effect and felt the remnants of Eu sparkling from his own fingertips as he tied his medium length, brown hair back with a braided hemp strand. Sasha wondered a-new at Trevor's colors of white and green. The hemp strand and his bracelet too, dyed to a darkest green with bright swirls of white woven tightly into faint patterns. And... suddenly words traveled mind to mind : "I pledge to employ only healing wishes of white magic, in service to Earth and the spirit of Tanyaka's firm love."

He smiled at his friend, not actually shaking his head and they made the sign to each other. Outward facing palms and supplication to nature... the power to act. A duty of responsibility. Smiles almost shinning through eager, happy expressions. Sasha knew how much they each enjoyed all these little rituals that kept springing up in the forest camps. The rituals were anything but solemn, they were the easy part and variations were spreading quickly among youth everywhere.

The goddess-like image of the elemental appeared in Sasha’s vision and he smiled welcoming Tanyaka to their circle.

Taryn came over from the big rock and rubbed Sasha’s shoulders and squeezed his thick neck.
The three stood facing each other in a small circle. Faint moonlight added blurred shadows to the scene there beneath the trees. The lightness of their well-honed spirit-chant dimmed the shadows more:

I am the Love that prevails ; I am together with all creation;
I am Biodiversity's Magic; I am the Power to restore the Balance of Life;
I am the power to renew Earth's potential; I am the Rei-Ki of Earth's Wish.

Taryn entered into the symbols of their faith, vibrating. The love from spirit and power united in a positive wish of healing. A soothing release came as Eu washed down through Sasha's head. She added her young love and guided the alignment of his energy field, chakra by chakra.

Small worries pulled away easily, but at the Heart chakra, she pushed both hands to the side. There sat the darkness ... spirit connected to his destiny - she couldn't touch that. Taryn didn't ever want to visit that Raven-thing again.

"Don't worry," Sasha thought back at her... "I'll deal with it."

Their intrinsic essences touched as an emanence of love - a 'no-tricks,' accepting love - reflected and continued to emanate as the flow slowly balanced and returned to eminence. The "higher sky" looked back approving of these youthful intentions and their timing. Her tall, thin body - wiry and able - stepped back slightly and she wondered at his protective force. His eyes probed deep into her aura and then drew back sharply from her radiant Trinity. The Trinity of Nature, Simplicity and 'Letting -go.'

He sent thoughts to her:
"I'm sorry, to push you away, but I can't go there yet. There are pieces missing, for me ... and," then out loud he said: "Come on you all. I want to talk about your most recent visits and haunts. We have to make more sense out of what's happening."

Trevor said: "Let's sit below the Grand Fir. I like that spot with the big root."

Together they settled around the large weathered root. Detached from themselves - and their busy human minds - they sat quietly for some time. Looking out from under the ancient Fir's large, drooping branches they could see the open meadow under a half moon's light. No fire wasted or wanted. Most of the time, friends of the Network practiced the 'new straight-edge' fashion of not wasting anything, of not wanting what you don't need - especially if it had an impact on Earth. Youth, and a few older forest dwellers, embraced this vigorously and took great pride in living a minimal impact - in moving away from being ... so human and consumption driven.

Sasha broke the silence and said:
"Taryn, I'm really glad that you can handle relations with the forest camps, so well ... and, I'll be busy with the Militia ... for ..well ..."
"I know. Its no problem Sash ..."said Taryn.
"Trevor, I hope you can keep floating to wherever you're needed. It's impossible to predict what'll happen first."

Taryn started to speak, but Sasha put out his hand toward her and continued:
"Listen. The Network is stronger than we imagined. Its like people are part of it without even knowing it."
Trevor nodded, but it did sound pretty weird, to all of them, hearing it that way.

"The healers are their own network and they encourage ours in a subtle, centering way. Reaching deep into open hearts, they encourage people to do what they feel... and feel what they do ... and to seek the expression of Life's Joy in everything."

Sasha paused, so Taryn said:
"The Healers find ready acceptance now, because they truly work in support of the Front-line Strategy: ESD, Ranger Defense, and an end to electricity. With acceptance, everyone opens to healing. Then trust and confidence slowly work their way in and a free space begins to clear around us. Space to be. Space to feel safe - knowing your autonomy will be respected. In that situation people demand the right to find a place that's right for them. A space too for being real and easy with your friends. This makes it possible to share space with your larger group - to know where most people's wishes are coming from - to create and cultivate a commons and a village culture. A blend of old and new culture forms, shaped in simplicity and creativity, with abounding love and excitement galore. Awe and excitement just at the effort ... every moment a victory, and no great, enduring expectations about tomorrow or the next season."

Sasha said: "The New Trinity harmonizes many wishes, its true. But where is it heading? The elections, and uprising?"

Taryn looked at Trevor who seemed inclined to let the usual blabber-mouths, rattle and prattle on, so she said : "I know the timing is so vague. Even the Healers admit it. They help keep the earthquakes from shaking loose ... and so far, they guard violent excess to a minimum. In China Cat free state, I overheard some random thoughts from one of the few male healers, right before he caught me eavesdropping on him. He was thinking how dangerous - it seemed to him - for the healers to embrace unconditional trust, and to follow through on their plan to ‘Let Go’ of all restraint... to trust ‘The One.’ that all their love is sent to..." and Taryn paused noticing Sasha's blank stare as he drifted off thinking about his mother, the Raven's eyes ... and the anniversary of that night, his birthday, last year.

The silence around him clued him in, and he looked up with a half smile saying: "I'm sorry, drifting off as usual. What did you say after the part about the Healers plan to trust the One ? "

Said Taryn: "It’s OK. The Healers are sending all their love and wishes to the Trinity of the Re-Balance: For light in the darkness; for understanding among all people of the need and inevitability of Gaia Self Defense; and the Wish of the Innocent: that life should be so simple, few possessions, simple tools, food , shelter, and caring neighbors. Restraints on violence are gone. The Earth's wish sprouts in vibrance, and forces draw toward conflict. They encourage all people to align their wishes with the one called ‘The Sorter."

Trevor jumped in, "Sasha, you’re always saying how everything is kind of the same thing at the root and that we delude ourselves with fancy words and overly clever re-definitions. So, is the "One" of which the Healers speak the "Sorter" or is it the "One" true Trinity? Maybe the Sorter finds the right Trinity..."

Sasha’s expression went momentarily blank as he sat there with both knees pulled up under his chin, thinking. Taryn’s lips moved silently as she also worked on the puzzle of words and concepts. Then she threw out her hands with the fingers shaking the way they all did in circle meetings to show that they agreed in general – they called it twinkling with their fingers. Her eyes shown with bright excitement as she spoke rapidly, "The One probably is the Sorter though I’ve also heard of someone called ‘The Savior’ too. And the One must sort out the trinities and bring them together. But its still confusing the Hell out of me. The Light in the Darkness could be Love or Rage... or even the ‘letting go’?"

Sasha wanted to slow Taryn down a bit because he thought she was on to something and he didn’t want to miss any of the impressions that her words were giving him. He said, "The Light in the Dark refers to the Wildryns."

And the way he said it with his eyes narrowing with a serious intensity and his head nodding; his friends could tell that Sasha didn’t want to speak further on that particular subject.

"Well, hmmm," said Taryn mostly to herself as her stream of thought continued, "Life being simple could also be the Letting Go, non-attachment or even Love... I guess. It all starts to sound the same, but I bet there’s trick if you get too extreme in condensing things down.

Who are the actors in all this – the change agents ?"

Those words did trouble Sasha some and he started to speak when Trevor jumped in again,

"I really think that Gaia Defense is the Earth’s wish or

Tanyaka’s as the elves’ stories refer to her."

--- seeee the rest of book (280 pages and many graphics) at :

www.greensurvival.blog.com