Forests have never frightened me even when I wander trails alone. As a child Santa did not need to be real, but fairies, elves and pixies were alive in my imagination. Each toadstool, tree knot, or shiny leaf was a home for my imaginary friends. Bell-shaped flowers played pretty melodies and the wind added a whispered tune in the leaves above.
I read Enid Blyton stories about these woodland characters who assisted humans in distress. I loved my Brownie troop and still have my badges and elf pin. After all, Brownies are helpful Fairies dedicated to a household or family. I thought dust particles in streams of sunlight were little magical creatures. (that explains my aversion to dusting)
Jack sits in the pulpit and there is room for more members of his congregation to share the canopied shelter. Dainty miniature flowers bloom at the bases of stumps and logs and their colourful petals are perfect for a gown or hat.
The woods are not lonely and many eyes watch from secret hiding places as my feet rustle through the dead leaves and pine needles on the forest floor. You may never know who is close by, motionless and quietly blending in with the textures and colours of nature.