Lithe limbs still clad with curly leaves
and protective ivy shield her naked bark.
There is no morning mist to clothe nor breeze
to make her dance. Just green breath of trees,
the scent of chlorophyll to transport her
to the beginning, when spirits did not need
to hide inanimate in plants, rocks, ice and water.
Invisible to all except husband, son and daughter,
a willow wraith could freely wander as a wife,
free from the paralysing poison of human life.
Kim M. Russell, 19th October 2020
Image: The Willow by Vincent van Gogh, oil on canvas,
Nuenen, November, 1885
My response to earthweal weekly challenge: Spirits of Place
I was completely spellbound by Brendan’s essay about spirits of place. I still am and, sitting at not quite seven thirty in the morning, watching the cats explore the undergrowth in our still garden, I’m sure we have them here in Norfolk, in our garden, among the trees, by the sea and on the Broads. Some mornings I see them hiding in the mist or shimmering in the early sun.
What a fantastic prompt to write to: in celebration of the ármaôr land-spirit of harvest, we are writing of land-spirits closest to us, which may reside in our homes or under them, or may grow from affinities for trees or shores. There is so much to write about, I wonder if I can do it justice.
writing in north norfolk 
I think you’ve more than done justice to the prompt, Kim! I especially liked the lines ‘There is no morning mist to clothe nor breeze/to make her dance.’ and the whole idea of a free-spirit willow wraith unbound by the ‘paralysing poison of human life.’ I found Brendan’s essay really inspiring, too.
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Thank you so much, Ingrid!
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I love this, too – such weaving abandon. All it takes is an inbreath of chlorophyll and everything transforms. Post more this week if the wee folk return!
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Thank you, Brendan. I’ll keep my eyes peeled.
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This is beautiful! I’m not sure I understand all its meaning, as English is my second language. However, I love your use of metaphor.
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Thank you so much, Astrid!
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I was thinking of tree spirits too. A lovely evocation of magic. (K)
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Thank you, Kerfe. I’ll be over to read and comment soon.
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Still in the thinking stage! It will probably take a few days to reach a coherent form.
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Simply beautiful and haunting. Nice use of imagery and alliteration, putting across an underlying theme (at least that’s what I feel) of our species’ ‘modern’ contentious relationship with nature — which is our home.
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Thanks Francis. Our garden has not only a willow wraith, but birch and bay wraiths too.
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Oh how I LOVE the idea of wife as willow wraith. How brilliant! I am certain, in your ancient land, there must be many spirits hovering near. I wish one could know their stories.
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Thank you, Sherry! We have more than our fair share of spirits in our garden alone.
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This is lovely. If only she could wander freely again. Willows are so beautiful.
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Thanks, Sarah. I love our willow tree.
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It will would be a wonderful world if the spirits of nature could roam freely. The willow is such a beautiful tree, she does whisper of other, freer times.
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I’m always surprised at how sturdy willows are. Ours has to be trimmed every so often as her branches grow around a power line. She grows back and embraces the power line in just months.
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