Myths of the Hollow that Sleeps No More
- Of Witches & Ghosts & Other Lovers Lost in Shadows and Colors
The beloved Hollow - forever a magical landscape of natural beauty - the perfect getaway spot - a destination for lovers all sorts to deliberately lose themselves for a time. Now, in this season of Halloween and these times of frights and delights of new dimensions throughout our sphere of happenings, comes Change, that ultimate wily spright, flying in witchy form to spook tricks and treats that mirror those all around.
Grounded at the very Center of this special place upon the occasion of All Hallows Eve and is a very special lady, beautiful across all aspects as befits her bond with this extraordinary place. Always and forever a child of this ancient forest. Losing herself wonderfully in images and voices of spirits emerging with the endless shades of shadow and riot of colors of her favorite turn of seasons - she’s seen & heard it all, this lovely barkeep, after a lifetime of living and working all about her beloved Hollow.
But that was a rifle shot, and that a shotgun blast, or were they? - and the drivers laying on those horns are enraged, maybe - omg, there are unmistakeable whoops of laughter and I am sure I hear echoes of unrestrained joy, even ecstasy - what is going on? the beautiful air of this perfect Autumn day is abuzz with more shouts & cries & shrieks than ever…
Of course frights and delights are what it is all about - what the lovers seek - they want to get lost here - and me with them…
And lovers come in all shades and varieties, as well - tis why they have always come here - the inner child in all of us is coming out these days…
But, something is different this year - more than ever are swarming here - new ways upon new ways challenging everything…
These notes swirl in her mind, her mood a jumble, yet, true to her way, she embraces the unspoken missives of the elements of this magical spot in full force. Opening her mind and soul, she allows them to softly enter, and sends them on their way with her own added. True depth knows no greater magic.
She knows deeply the intangibles that have always made this place special and a favorite destination. Again this year, her soul is merging with those of the lovers who seek to lose themselves in the joys and frights of getting lost in the tangle of paths - but now, this year, as one with the angers and fears of these times, something is amiss.
Out there in her view, yet hidden, are other mighty ones, closest to her in understanding and appreciating all of this special place, driving into it’s very heart for an annual reunion - recreation of true, unbounded love all a possible aspects - their inner child as one across their clan of beloveds.
With visions of witches and ghosts dancing about them, these two intrepid lovers blaze their all-terrain thru the fog of late afternoon, dodging the ruts and avoiding the enclosing trees of the mountain road, riding a ghostly torrent of swirling mists, perfect for the approach of All Hallows Eve.
“Whew, baby, this gray is alive - like something the witches have cooked up” “he he - ah my love, the witches take all forms - they are right here in full force - with all the hype along all the channels, all the notes of enrage, there will be more spirits here than ever — this will be wicked fun this year” “can the wild claims and reports of real harm be true?” “impossible to tell with so much madness” “well, this has always been place to bring all that out - behind every tree and in every hidden nook of this sprawling hollowed out spot, lost itself deep within the ancient forest” “perhaps many are lured by the ghoulishness of the ugly talk itself” “whew baby, indeed”…
…Their exited exchanges - their own notes added upon the twists and turns, comforting and steadying, infusing themselves with strength, as they bounce along, as they return to this haven of lost souls - forever a destination for lovers to beautifully, quietly, peacefully lose themselves for a spell - a spell within spells is now moving in with the witches and ghosts.
This Hollow that sleeps no more is transformed itself, now a maddeningly popular resort and favorite hotspot for a new generation to celebrate the frights.
“I hope the others are alright” “I know, we called them here to indulge ourselves” “We still can, but we must be much more careful - even here.”
Thru openings in the shadows they glimpse the colors of Autumn at it’s peak, and peer for glimpses of their fellows, their clan that shares everything and means everything, needing badly to disappear together in this maize of paths and dells.
Tis the season of wicked delights - unprecedented numbers converge with our intrepid pair unknowingly at the head of a procession. They draw on their boundless hope to push away the rumors of genuine frights and refocus on the delights that await.
All the while, throughout the twisted paths of the Hollow, spirits of the extremes of our world at large ride the currents of their champions, provoked from the margins and edges of our times, they stoke themselves with their own notes of their very own truths, their own missives of urgency, and rise from their own mists and pour upon their wave of reclamation into the Hollow, as well.
A world within worlds this is, emerging in this season of shadows and colors with a more than full display of all the thrills and horrors of our unearthly times, filling the nooks and dells of this marvelous realm with a boiling and toiling brew at is now primed for explosions.
From the heightened senses of our barkeep above and our intrepid couple within, riding a common wellspring of elevated state, to the full range of elements converging, the inevitable collisions emanate.
Even as a wave of spirits from the edge of our sphere descend, other lovers are already nicely lost, in hidden nooks and along twisted paths.
High upon the promontory, the rise amid the recesses, those already gathering are quietly and naturally sharing the lovely spirit of the child of the forest, their notes joining the chorus and chatter…
…ignore them, disregard their noise - how lovely it is here, as always, these reports can’t be true - we’ll teach them, we’ll show them, it’s ours and we’re taking it all back - ooh, look at them, listen to them, let’s play with them - what wicked fun, as always…
…look, amid it all, those two lovelies driving right into it - and their fellows, so serene at the Center…
…yes, and elsewhere, others are bumping and crashing in the shadows and colors, provoking their inner selves to emerge, their spirits to join with all of us, to merge with all of the ghosts inflight tonight.
…where do all of these come from, all of these wily sprights? ah and oh well - so very nicely losing our way are we - glorious is this approach of All Hallows Eve…
…mmmm, impossible to resist - fascinating beyond all else - to delve we must!!!
…ahhh, so glorious to lose ourselves in the very ether - to hear perfectly the silent, all-powerful chorus - our higher power of infinite mystery and strength…
These notes and more reverberate in the magical atmosphere here at the center of things, concentrated particularly in the very two fellow lovers about which our intrepid ones on the road muse.
Indeed, settled upon the ancient stones - a landscape within the landscape of magnificent craftsmanship, itself unearthly in its’ beauty. At once unbelievably delicate and wildly eccentric, vast and intimate, the heart of the Hollow, this meandering network of architectural places and spaces is in perfect synergy with all that surrounds.
Here, the sweetest of kindly folk, the gentlest of the gentle, are already wonderfully adrift.
Serene and bucolic is their mood, fully one with the benevolent ghosts of their beloved Hollow. Like the grounded and settled fellow sprights, they snuggle and huddle deep in the enormous wooden seats, worn to a caress of softness by years of use.
They are perched upon the stone deck, taking in the soft, unreal beauty of Autumn, now broken by faint tremors and sounds out of context w the soothing, magical air and gorgeous views of reds & oranges & yellows.
Clinging to their spell, they drink in the fragrance of the Fall foliage, allowing their child-selves to re-assert. A fresh breeze is lifting the fog and with it they continue to elevate.
But against this delightful re-joining with loving spirits comes a fading. Unwanted but unmistakable are intrusions - they “hear” also the unspoken notes of the Hollow - felt with an eerie clarity…
>> Marvelously wicked these twists and turns - we are wonderfully lost ourselves and lost in our maneuvering they all are - all about the Hollow - feed their chatter, pour it on…
…truth-be-told: Hah!! that’s no matter in this glorious witch hunt - just add to the frenzy - launch the notes that work…
…especially to those ready to act - push them over the edge - trigger them…
…just share the reports - they want to believe - can’t help themselves - they will do our work…
…beautiful Autumn haven - Bah! - spooks and ghosts, they are already here - fuel them, stoke them…
…a spooky mixture, for sure - such are our times…
…frights and delights indeed - even here the lines are crossed - like the ancient roots that surround - vital, are the elspirits who hold deep and strong…
Such are these gentle and mighty ones, Bets and Ben, huddled and snuggled and silently absorbing it all and sharing in return, in the eternal counter balance, the magical chorus of ghosts and witches and of other spiritual lovers - such are the forms of the inner voices emerging, the collective inner child - but these essential elements take on wild aspects in this season and these times.
Viewing this timeless haven, overlooking the tapestry of havens within, they lose themselves in moments of discovery, allowing themselves to cede control of the basic realm of survive and strive and delve into the world of underlying aspects of extremes; strength and serenity merging with weakness and fear, all before them.
Such are the edges of ours sphere. So are the tangles and twists embodied in this paradise of shadows and colors.
Un-noticed right in front of them, the unmet kin of the barkeep right behind them in the inn, camouflaged perfectly by the elemental effect of their thoughts and of the magic of the forest at this turn of seasons, are Abby and Josh, at this moment glimpsing the bedrock on which their very best friends are ensconced at the anchor point of this vast landscape, briefly illuminated by the setting sun.
At other wild points around this sprawling enclave of forbidden things, myriad others mix and match, encounters building upon each other as the magic works it’s own effect, merging ethereal spiders with the flood of spiritual notes and missives of pure harm for it’s own sake - yes, even here, of course here, the madness of narrow extremes at an extreme of it’s own - it’s own pi aspect of explosions and mergings.
Amid it all are yet other gentlefolk, loving, kindly in their own right, a closest of couples, they also wind their way. Belle and Ned, the warmest and most genuine of kindred humanity there is, beset with their share of fears and angers, yet reaching bravely for the hope and possibilities they still harbor, they grope ahead on unsteady footing, now surely lost in these wicked pathways, their vision blurred by the infringing growth and pervasive vapors.
On an edge of their own, yet as one with multitudes of an untold host that is converging here with them.
Harsh fantasies and realities of dark places and infinite shades of truth - even here in the beloved, ancient Hollow, now transformed - spirits finding their way in the tangled jungle, now colliding and aligning, the force of their notes of fantasy magnified by their interchange of virtual chatter…
“OMG - look - down there - thru the trees - on the ground in that opening, right on the ground! Look quick before the fog comes back - hard to see for sure, but that must be some of them - the lost & missing - oh my god, the loss - lured in, can’t get out - the tales we have been told!”
“The reports - the lies - this is what happens when we listen to them, always!”
“JC - and there, others rushing away - it’s them, caught in the act - “with us or against” - we know who! - get them, stop them!”
On the ground, figures, not moving, people, deep in the woods - lost in woods and now found - others moving away - way beyond shadows & colors, mystery solved…
…suddenly revealed by a parting of the fog, others glimpse and react and sound the alarm - the reports must be true - lost souls have indeed been disappearing - so many reports - must be true - knew it…
…dangerous times and places - even in this haven - nothing is sacred - no help for miles - gentlefolk in the wilds, astray, alone - what next?!
An avalanche of notes join the Autumn air of the Hollow and the elements notice, hysteria or ecstasy, or both, wicked terror or fun, or both?
Acute are these missives of true alarm, launched with the very best of intent, their reactive notes, unvetted and unchecked, they cascade and build upon themselves - an onslaught of witches and ghosts of wholly other aspects - lovers at heart turned to horror far beyond the playful frights of the season - they pour into the Hollow, bent on their self-made noble mission of reclamation.
The voices of the forest turn with the advancing elements, sending forth new missives to join the wily sprights of the Hallows of this Eve, the ripples and vibrations therefrom are felt with certainty and heightened sensations by all the the child spirits.
Knowing intimately the soul of their beloved Hollow - our barmaid above and our intrepids below - totally absorbed in the love of moment, yet they feel their hearts race - something is going on - a new edge to the very shadows and colors - new extremes of lost and disappearing are at hand.
Exhaling and letting go, she releases the demons that overwhelm the gentle elements throughout the landscape. Thus, finding her strength, she instinctively refocuses on the ancient stones of the inner and tavern that is her personal joy and life’s work, and notices the quiet lovers settled just outside on the comfy chairs, seeing and hearing the same as herself, but nicely lost in themselves.
Another huge and deep calming breath, and her inner elspirit takes over, commanding her very being like one of the ghosts benevolently violating the sphere of happening that is converging upon them.
Ah, there it is, like a potion of nurturing passion and energy, there all the time and now emerging as a critical point is reached - thus finding her deepest self, her notes join the emergence of countering spirits - forever the slower build, but therein lies the true hope — the natural balance is ever the ultimate course as the awesome clarity of her soul speaks…
Those two out there - I forgot them - early arrivals for a reunion at one of the nearby B&B’s - they passed thru here and spoke of their love, for each other, for this Hollow, for their other lovers and their special bond, especially with the two intrepid ones whose arrival they await…
…ah, beautiful recognition - those they await, they have the very same special elspirit I know so well, that I am now summoning up - these ones here and out there, their intimate clan, we are kindred, brethren…
Such is the vibration, the substance of these vital emergences - also familiar and coming into focus is the subtle power the intrepid ones they await hold over all of their clan - oh my god - should I be elated at the thrill of their rendezvous in my beloved Hollow - or truly frightened at what they might really find - or am I, we succumbing to the trickery - are we as weak as the crazed, and so lost that we miss the treats of this All Hallows Eve?
Thus she deliberates upon it all, stretching ever further into the ethereal aspects that abound in this time of shadows and colors.
So do her new brethren - for such they certainly at heart - limitless is this vast sphere within spheres - to meet and find themselves in each other is the very substance of the almighty elevated state of things.
Abby and Josh are weighing all of these very same impulses from their perspective along the main mountain road as they drive into the Hollow. Equally aware and absorbing the crazy ripples in the realm, and in this beloved destination within. It comes to them as they lead their clan on their annual ritual, that they are not alone.
Abby looks closely at Josh, drawing from him a quick, knowing glance, “I’m sure they are okay love.”
“I know, but I’ll feel better when we see each other. But you know, Josh, there are definitely other things going on this year - I feel it - so much buzz, so much chatter - triggering real action!”
“I feel it, too, but let’s stay true - this is always the time and place to lose ourselves in tricks and treats - maybe we are just caught up ourselves on all that is going on.”
“It is crazy when such things become so real - things that are creepy and should stay on the fringe all becoming “normal” - there is far more of that everywhere, for sure.”
“It’s all coming here this year, this wonderful place has alway been the place to “lose our selves” - but more than ever come those already lost and blindly following anti-champions, witches and ghosts within, who, in true fright, validate their fears and biases - and with it comes now other aspects of all of that - many don’t see how really creepy it gets.”
“We’ll feel better when we are with our loves - we always break through this sort of thing - that’s why we come here!”
Loving hearts they all are, breaking all barriers in their shared intimacies. These two intrepid ones out on the mountain road, braving ahead and now lost in thought, the swirls all about them filling their hearts with a mix of the usual excitement and anticipation, but also worries of their beloved Hollow losing its’ way, of gentlefolk like themselves disappearing, of newcomers who don’t appreciate and respect ruining it all - the relentless chatter says so - thus consumed they push ahead into it all.
Unseen but close behind and all around in nooks and pathways is a host of others. They are forcefully at the forefront, ploughing to a beloved natural destination already filled beyond all memory spiritual elements.
But surely, it is a ghostly procession they are leading into the heart of the Hollow, of a variety of souls, loving and hating, both - a host of pure pi aspect of merging extremes.
Blazing forward into the blind, noting with appreciation each clearing of shadows and gift of colors. They peer ahead into the alternating swirl of crystal purity and bewildering shades mixing - breathing as one, excited and on edge as this time of frights and delights warrants - it is after all All Hallows Eve and this is most definitely, this year, amid the wild happenings in the greater spears, a Hollow that sleeps no more.
Abby lays her hand on his shoulder and they find their mutual rhythm, their higher inner el spirit and strength builds, and they return to their joy, reveling in the journey and the depth of their love and their readiness to face and embrace - and think of the early arrivals of their clan, whom they know must already be settled.
Like a rush of wind, but the air is eerily still - like whispers and voices in song, but not a breath of sound - a sudden quieting of the ethereal chorus and virtual chatter, the echoing that had alerted the spirits of the Hollow now abruptly silent.
Bets sits up straight, gripping the arm of the chair tight, “Feel it? Something in the air - listen, smell it - like a charge or something.”
Ben leans close and rubs her back, “It’s like when there are thunderstorms - when the atmosphere feels alive.”
Deep within the pathways the same current sweeps through. Nothing but sensations out here - of Autumn at it’s height, of sounds and sights and notions that touch and strike deep within.
Ned puts his hand out in front of her, “Wait, stop, first we can’t see, now… something else… a buzzing…”
Belle takes his hand, “More of a vibration, look at the hairs stand up - on both of us.”
Along the mountain road, like a wave crashing and pounding, their is an altering.
“Hey Josh, pull over - please - and cut the engine - hoo wee, are you feeling it?
“Whew baby I am - Abby my love, can’t you wait? Is it trick or treat time?”
Their laughter comes from within - an eruption - thank you, thank you - centering in almighty form, so glorious - so alive!
Throughout the nooks of the ancient forest, the losing and finding of elements pauses, the wild mixing and converging is stayed amid the riot of notes that brought them here - new missives are swirling in the collective consciousness.
Ah my loves - our missives and theirs, merging and caroming with the mists all around us - such is the very essence of this disjointed time and space, as one with the very i-chatter that stokes the eternal passions - the notes of inner voices are launched and received as a wily and wicked and crazed brew, pure mercurial and ethereal…
…extra and beyond all ordinary are the spirits joining us this season - the anger out there has now entered our Hollow - cloudy always are the views from within, far greater they are w the tangles they bring with them - look at all of the encounters, whether with each other or with our own missives - thrown together with the ghosts of all Hallows - they don’t yet get the hurt and the joy - they will feel both - yes, look at these ones here…
ah, but let us join with these two - elevated and entranced, they snuggle in their chairs and gaze upon the overall - strengthened they are by their forceful lovers, always in connection, always with them and all of their clan, wherever they all are, now winding their way towards them - they do know joy amid it all, thanks to the ones they await.
Indeed, Ben and Bets, now alerted upon their perch on the uppermost deck of the old tower, they consider the intrusion, the winds of Change that they have sensed. From the top of the mound that dominates this huge warren of play, they absorb it all and reflect, seeking deep understanding - their usual grand view of the “wildlings" is, frankly, largely the same as always at this special time of year - perhaps we are overly caught up - just look - this what we seek every year - we must make the most of it.
Such is their way - allowing themselves to lose control, to be we one with the alternating dampening fog and mist and then brilliant blaze of fire - to release their own spirits into the play of witches and ghosts - it comes to them - whew, baby, they are in force this year - in forms and wickedness beyond all - such is the sphere of happenings - all converging right here - whew and yay and what mischief can we get into!
They and their clan love each other’s company in ways that stretch all bounds, indulging in their own depths of intimacy, they make this annual rendezvous a rite of their very own.
Emboldened by their anticipation, they muse further on the unfolding spirits all around them - ooooh, and booooh - oh the passions at play before us - the mischief we can indulge in - to spy upon it all…
Bets ventures, “we could easily steal into the nooks and crannies of this place tonight. Between the shadows and the mob of revelers, we would be just another part of the very confusion we come for.”
“Indeed. I get a kick out of the very serious ones. There are sure be even more of them than usual.”
Seeing themselves as wily sprights and wicked spirit shadows, perfect for the approaching All Hallows Eve, they plot their manner of attack.
“Our crew must have gotten lost - or just decided to explore on their own - we should go investigate.”
“Free spirits they are, or maybe it’s the magic of this place and time of year. Up here is my favorite place - if this fog would clear, we would have that perfect view of the trees in full color.”
“I don’t know - it’s supposed to be beautiful later, but it may get dark before this clears off.”
“You can see from all the headlights in the mist, and hear the voices - all lot of people are trooping in for the fest - I bet our clan has gotten mixed up in all of that.”
“Do you believe the talk of people really getting lost here lately? Lovers roaming out into the pathways and never coming back - that’s the buzz.”
“We see them all the time from here - even today, look, these little patches open up constantly as new air starts to blow in - see them all over braving the many hiding spots of this place. The olde inn, and the new place on the other side of the square, they always start from there then venture off.”
“Just check the chatter tagging here right now - full of whispers of witches and shadows - feeding on itself about dark spirits and reports of disappearances.”
Obsessed and bothered with the annual craze that visits to the Hollow have become, and the general wickedness that has invaded the sphere at large, many are these whisperers that are pouring in, determined to put things right, back to where they aught to be - to take back our lovely realm, our perfect place to “get lost”…
And odd-lot collection of grousers, venters, ragers and clowns. From a walks all around the region, they are of common-tongue of the struggle, the jungle, the basic and the pure, the virtue of true purpose and valiant effort. As this next season of shadows encroaches, accompanied as always by the peak emergence of colors, this noble collection of gentlefolk sharpen the their vigilance of the contrasts at all points.
“Makes my blood boil to think of how they treat our beautiful place every year at this time. The Hollow is so unique, and used to respected. I can’t stand what those people have done to it.”
“I agree so much. They have allowed all of that awful crowd in. It’s that bunch that has taken over… Disgusting liberals… Don’t care… This is always what happens with them.”
“It just isn’t the way it used to be. It’s supposed to be for good clean fun. It’s always been a hugely popular destination for regular people to go. It’s time we took a stand for what is right!”
“Hold your bladder you guys; we get so worked up; let’s attack this together and just do our best - it’s our due.”
“Yes, look at us, we always do our best. We just need to call all them out. Confront them. Stand firm for what is right. Not just with the ones that run it, but with all of those who invade each year… God they are terrible… Make them show which side they are on. We know we are on the right one. There will be plenty of good chances in the coming days.”
Tired, all of them, of being told and soothed and talked-down-to. Ready to burst and take back what is rightfully theirs. Into the season shadows and colors they are drawn on their noble mission.
For each tormented one storming in, thoroughly lost in their way, countless more have thoroughly let go and are already in place, with the most open of hearts and minds and souls, they have ceded to the higher spirits of genuine love and are already in place, filling the deepest pathways and dells.
For all of the souls of the beloved Hollow, tis the truly the season of witches and ghosts and other lovers, spinning and weaving each their own truths thus is the ethereal substance of the myths of this ancient place of finding and losing.
Carried now upon their streams, virtual and otherwise, building each upon their fury or ecstasy, raging or romping - their passions are collectively stokes and they are compelled towards collisions.
At the epicenter are Abby and Josh - their extraordinary gifts strength and touch have put them at the critical point of this sphere within spheres.
Our intrepid lovers do, indeed, press on, delighting in eery sounds reverberating from all directions as they motor deep into the forest, thrilled they are at the spirits of this season showing and echoing in the shadows and colors of this hollow that sleeps no more…
…and joined by these new notes of wheels and axles cracking along this mountain road, complete w musical toots of friendly warning aimed at shades of other movements, other elemental creatures moving and teasing all about…
…this was their inspiration, their impulse, Abby and Josh, to rally their flock to this destination for losing control…
…masters they are at that - their strength and their very own ghostly spirit - joining with all of those now converging - tis the season - this season of ghostly spirits…
…heaving and moaning with joy at their own emergence, they bounce along this mountain road…
Silently they peer forward through the windshield into the grey, their vision constantly shifting between brief pockets of clear, revealing the sharp contrast of black of narrow pavement and encroaching bare branches…
…then suddenly disappearing, consumed by new shrouds of fog.
“Creepy, this swirling mist - I love it.”
“It’s supposed to clear nicely later, but this should make it extra interesting. There are so many lil nooks and corners to hide - tonight we can do it in plain sight!”
“Let’s be extra careful - I’ve heard report of people really getting lost.”
“You mean disappearing? Must be ghosts!” He laughs heartily, easing the tension of this difficult navigation, straining to see the way ahead.
She joins him in the laugh, softly touching his arm, heaving a welcome sigh, “Whew, this is treacherous. I’m glad you are driving.” Barely suppressing hers, she adds, Don’t laugh; people really believe some are getting lost. I don’t know when it is more likely, on slow and empty days, or in peak season when it will be packed, like tonite!”
“We’ll stay extra close my love, sure! It’s the whole idea of this place, at any time.”
“God this is weird - from perfectly clear to blinding fog - quick, look thru that opening in the trees, a narrow side road I don’t remember - and see, a perfect alignment - there’s the promontory.”
Abby follows his gaze off to the left, that big beaming, wicked smile he loves so much filling her beautiful face. She says “yeah, there is the old lodge - best bar in world - so nicely expanded, like much of this place…”
Sharing her excitement, he adds, “we love it, for sure, but you know, many are really upset that it’s changing.”
“Ah, it’s a sleepy hollow no more - I loved it before and it’s better now - we can believe in magic here during this season. Maybe this is just the work of wily ghosts, Josh - you know, they are all out in this forest for All Hallows Eve! - playing a trick on us - even here I don’t know what to believe - awesome!”
Just a suddenly as it came, the view disappears, the mist moving back in to engulf them.
“Aaaaaggggh” they both let out together. Big breaths as one. She offers, “oh well - Betsy had just texted that they were there already - you know them - take your time - give them a honk in case they can hear from here.”
He does so, adding, “I know - she and Ben have lots of patience, but even they must be getting a bit worried - we are so late - and with all the crazy chatter, even they will get upset.”
“Whoa! - look back there love - some nut has just appeared in the mirror, in a big hurry, catching up to us fast!”
Abby leans close to Josh as she turns her head to look at the road behind them, “ooooh weee - I see - a big black suv,” laughing uneasily, she adds “he’s really moving - and guess what, he’s bringing the shadows with him.” She let’s out her musical notes of glee, “this is so perfect””
He laughs with her, “Crazy it is - his truck and the dark mist are filling my rearview entirely, they are right behind us, like spirits riding together, chasing us - whew!”
This what they and their clan are coming here for - their sleepy lil hollow has gone mainstream in recent years, and the chatter this year, leading up to All Hallows Eve has truly gone viral - we have to go this year - got to get into the middle of the wicked craziness - such are their notes leading them all here - got be together for this - far more than friends - virtual lovers we are!
They jump at the sudden blast of the car horn blaring from behind - confusion within confusion as the sharp noise of urgency get’s twisted right along with the rest of the elements of enclosing trees and mist as they bounce off the uneven, nay broken pavement.
Very practiced at navigating the twisting paths in all conditions, Josh instinctively reacts by just maintaining speed - staying the course - the moment of clarity is totally gone as together they plow thru the gray of the forest.
“Is this creepy or what? This part of the road is actually really dangerous, but we moving at just the right speed to be safe - he’ll just have to deal.”
I can’t believe this a/h really is doing this - really right on our tail - so unreal - so eerie and beautiful at once - is this a cruel trick?”
“Maybe, but take another look love - the honking doesn’t really seem to be coming from him - he’s close, but seems to be in control, but it’s like it’s from somewhere else.”
Suddenly they drop into one of the huge depressions typical of this old mountain road, jarring them, causing the suv to swerve and rock sharply, and with it the supremely clear crack and pop - of what?
Stirred to rise themselves by the onslaught, Ben and Bets jump and are compelled to launch themselves - the final trigger, the sudden movements before them.
“This place is more active than I’ve ever seen - things are surely happening - look at the edge of this opening…”
“I see - a group of runners emerging from the paths - and look, another procession forming. See? That first runner? That especially beautiful one?! mmmm so nice! - in phenomenal shape - she is completely in her zone amid all of this - they are emerging right in front of us, and now heading back into the forest.”
“Yes, I see! Look! That guy there, then that other one over there, following - creepy!”
“We have to keep an eye - see what they are up to - and hopefully learn what these new sounds and sensations mean - aaaaaah - I don’t know whether to be thrilled or terrified.”
“He he - I’m sure they are playing like us, indulging in their own way, it’s this place at this season.”
Groping their way back from their fright, their mood shifting with the sudden giving way of blinding fog against the onslaught of the deepest dark. “Typical of this Hollow, you know, these hidden clearings, usually free of the swirling mists and fogs, and often offering the most lovely glimpses of sunshine off the hues of the leaves…” He always loves her gift for beautiful expression, her grasp of the inner beauty of the moment in perfect rhythm with her own inner el voice.
Belle quiets as she re-doubles her concentration on her footing along the forest path for fear of either falling or crashing into a one of the enclosing trees.
Ned grasps her arm to steady them both - both for physical safety and for resolve, “yes, we’ve enjoyed so many serene days nicely lost in brilliant the colors of these dells - but also like this eve, they can be steeped in the blackest of shadows as the sun gets low… We’ll be okay my dear.”
An eerie hum emanating nearby stops them - a subdued chatter - yet more strangers are about -others we have to worry about - triggering in both of them a wave of familiarity - a curious similarity to the frightful happenings they had just encountered, and to their own interchange of inner thoughts - a collective echo - a creepy sensation for sure - a crazy chorus of notes - a kind of ethereal buzz of hearsay about strange and fearful happenings and disappearances as record crowds descended on their beloved enclave for All Hallows Eve.
Silent, but in the closest touch, they knew each others’ thoughts as they grew ever more cautious - god we can get away from them - even here we can’t tell real from fantasy, nor true frights from wicked trickery - creepy indeed are these shadows and colors.
She led him ever so slowly and carefully in the direction of where she remembered a set of wooden benches were. Suddenly the sounds engulfed them, warm softness hugged them, as if they were being groped themselves - hands, arms, fingers - overwhelming sensations - at once alien and ever so intimate.
To love or hate new sensations, forever and eternally an internal struggle for them and their brethren, the vital need to define, clearly, with purity of certainty - the impossibility of it all throws them into release.
Falling as with the elements, they fall now into the embrace of their perfect counters - that race of folks reveling and welcoming the infinite shades of the world within worlds - brethren of the balancing realm of elevated state.
Recoiling, emitting one of her trademark mini-screams - Ned knows her well, and these familiar bursts of audible outrage are, to him, part of her charm.
All sensations on overload, her heart racing, feeling Ned tightening his grip, plus other tightening, as well. Now falling further, yet not, propped and supported, invaded - a flurry of sounds - he yelling his rare high squeak - she her lowest of mournful moans - their extreme notes of terror and horror leaving them savagely exposed - but also, marvelously, from somewhere deep within, unsought but now welcomed, a source of great merriment as an inner strength is tapped amid it all, giving them a rare, and sorely due distance and perspective.
Pure pi aspect - a glorious merging of extremes about this sudden, critical point.
All coming in to their hyper moment of awareness amid a jarring blast of the most heart-warming of laughs and most direct of touches - what is this? where are we? ensnared! hugged! flesh! a hot nest - caught? saved?!
>>So this is where they have been going - back there with those on ground - right here all around us — sleepy lil hollow no more — lost and now found - omg!
>>Who else has been ensnared? Or have they? - lost beyond their intent - or just as they sought? — caught in this den, or welcomed? — the oddest mix of sensations - violated and loved - enough, all we can take, back get back to the tried and true…
Back away these lovers do yet again - stumbling in the mist, they grab hold of each other - shocked and disrupted and full of fear, and of the most curious, compelling wonder - yet another pi aspect merging about them, within them - these spirits consume them.
Turning unsteadily on the forest floor, they abandon the decadent forms before they are ensnared further - with hearts racing and involuntary cries emitting they move away just as the fog swirls and lifts.
Unmistakable the pops and cracks rifling thru the gloom - overcome, Josh pulls over - Abby grabs his arm as the train roars past - what is going on? we came for frights and delights, but…
From yet another direction, from deep within the twisted pathways cloaked in the shadows & colors of the season, now further obscured by the encroach of gloom, a chorus of shrieks…
…of joy or terror or sheer surprise? - human or otherwise - confusing and bewildering, all mixed with the sharp winds and falling matter from the ancient trees…
Runners falling, strollers stumbling, stalkers crashing - free spirits racing head-on into enragers raging - witches and ghosts and other lovers they all are - frights and delights in a chorus of spirits emerging - such is the Hollow that sleeps no more this All Hallows Eve.
Amid it all, disoriented and torn between thrilled and chilled, Belle and Ned, these two long-time venturers into the wilds of their beloved Hollow, they have just added to the notes - both verbal and virtual - of frights and delights abounding as they seek far reaches that are, hopefully, still unspoiled by the reckless intrusion of change…
Searching for their higher power, their shared elevated spirit, our barkeep above and Abby & Josh below, they stretch their senses to find their own holy, critical point from which to best decide upon the best course.
Shocked by the turns, yet alway hopeful of the possibilities for good as true el spirits emerge and merge, Ellie weighs it all.
Stunned by the race of vehicles past them, the honking way beyond anything needed in this gentle setting, and by the shots that seemed like gunfire, Josh put it in park, and they rolled down the windows.
“Geese, are we getting carried away, or are they? - this a time for frights and tricks, but it seems different this year.”
“Yeah, I just don’t know - listen out there - those are definitely screams - but it could just be people having good old fun - there are certainly a lot more here this year.”
With the headlights only reflecting the enclosing grey, he turned them off and cut the engine. The resulting totality of dark was something that usually thrilled them - and still did - but there was definitely a new edge to it.
They had stopped at what they knew to be a secluded crossroad deep within the forest - physically quite close to the Promontory, together with it the heart of this beloved natural enclave - many of the paths converge here, and now comes the clear echo of many footsteps, joined with rustlings of creatures tiny and not and the other night sounds.
“I always love this spot, Josh - nicely creepy the way the spirits of the Hollow all seem to join here - but listen, it is so busy tonight.”
“It’s always difficult to judge distances from there, but there are clearly a lot of people, and other critters moving about.”
“Look, there! A whole bunch are racing down that path - and there, where some are shining flashlights, others with lanterns seem to be blocking them.”
“Want to have a little fun of our own? After all, it is Halloween! Let’s creep along over there - we know our way around here in the dark - I bet we can get close without being noticed.”
From the deepest spots of the Hollow, the most secluded of revelers - or so they thought - theses recesses have alway been the most private of wide open nooks, perfect for the most extremes acts of indulgence for which they alway returned - even from these sacred places lovers were stirring and moving - something new in the air this year - yay, we are in the mood for anything - let’s see what mischief we can find - a glorious air in the Hollow this eve - perfect for us witches and ghosts!
Should be easy - we have already been noticed - while we were fully in play, like the most innocent of fawns, they crept towards, then recoiled and ran - surely they will make easy targets…
Yes - we are already fully indulged, and these ones are already fully shocked - let’s give chase and spread the fun!!!
Ah my loves, this is pure Chaos theory in practice, all before us - to orchestrate as best we can…
Yes, our fellow benevolent spirits surge throughout the Hollow - from these free spirits pursuing the startled gentle loves, ever possessed of hope - to this onslaught of uglies, sadly at a loss for such - each now moving upon their own noble course of lost and found, each of them lovers by their own truths…
Indeed, these ones of puffs and huffs - a truly wicked host of spirits - they are easily stirred by their anti-champions, ever and eternally on a narrow course to conserve and harness the frightened - they are bent on emergences of entirely other aspects…
The witches and ghosts of this All Hallows Eve are in glorious company - the inevitable collisions of pi aspects of all shades of shadows and colors shall provide wicked results…
More than a ghostly parade, now a stampede into the heart of the Hollow, faster and faster, their vital purpose confirmed by the cracks and pops and shrieks echoing about the ancient forest, the roar of their engines and scream of their horns break the serenity of the Hollow…
Taking it all in, Abby and Josh sense both the delights and frights abounding all around them - suddenly they turn at the pose of dark, metallic forms…
“Jeese, look at that - like madmen - that is so dangerous in this gloom…”
“We should alert the others to be extra careful - these nuts raging are sure to run someone over, if they don’t crash first.”
Screeching to stops at this convergence of mountain roads and forest paths, the saviors bent on reclamation pour out of their trucks and fill the paths, following the alerts of their fellows of the whereabouts of the trouble.
Satisfied that sufficient force is now surging through the forest to counter the invasion of those who don’t belong, their leaders, the champions of their noble cause to #takebackthe hollow, they rev back up their mighty vehicles and head for the Promontory.
Children of the forest, they burst from their twisted and paths and are stopped, stunned, shaken by the witchcraft of the Hollow - overcome with powerlessness — as one with the veil of mist and fog their spirits rise with the ghosts of All Hallows Eve…
“God Belle - I don’t know who or what to believe here”
Instinctively she hugs Ned as they emerge into the crossroads area deep within the forest “Me either - oh my god Ned - look at this right here - and that scene back there - and those shots and screams - and all these awful reports…”
“I know we are racing to give our own report, but…” he stops, eyes wide, feeling like he’s going to burst “I don’t now about all of this, but I just have a feeling we should stop - people are going to get hurt here, for real, and…”
She breaks in, gripping him so tight, “They already are…”
He turns to her, puts his arms around her, “what do we really know - what have we been told - what have we been ready to believe - it’s all mixed up right here - but I know this - this is still the middle of a beautiful place, at a marvelous time of tricks and treats and people like us getting lost in all of it - I think you and I are lost right now in other ways, and need to get grip…”
Truly alarmed now by the crazy taunts and insults flowing from those flowing from the various trucks and other vehicles, feeding on their own hysteria, now pouring down the paths from where our shaken ones just emerged - then suddenly a new extreme is breached - genuine cries of both hurt and jubilation…
Ned and Belle are beside themselves, already stopped by inner feelings contrary to their urgency to spread their notes of alarm - given pause by a critical point reached and the spirits of the Hollow conspiring to halt their mission - now this clear image of children on a witch hunt jars them further as this new contradiction is added.
As ghosts within themselves, they note their involuntary new movement, towards this new source of genuine tricks and treats gone way, way too far, and now catch their breath as they stumble into a raw mix of passions - more lovelies on the ground w others, like themselves trying to push through the uglies who have clearly put them there.
Pure confrontations - lovers of other aspects finally waking as from a spell - the grave danger of these others will bewitched suddenly unveiled, in perfect rhythm with the clearing elements of this ancient forest.
Completely non-linear these wily spirits, spooking ripples and ebbs in the currents in the Hollow on All Hallows Eve - indeed, as happenings transpire, so to do countless other…
…seen from other vantage points, other aspects, the masters note - our free spirits are in pure states of love and lost - as one with the most benevolent witches and ghosts - they are filling the most secluded spaces, then emerging forth as the solar orb descents and the shadows and colors fade into the mists…
…yes my loves, and all the while, as well, these tormented souls, these lovers in their own hearts, every much fellow children of this ancient forest and other jungles, yet held back, imprisoned and so very lost, they race in their hyper state as the blaze of setting sun fires their own craze of passions, also filling the byways of our sphere of happenings w their own troubled world, and now, this one within it all…
All during these happenings, in perfect tune w the spirits of this beautiful Autumn afternoon now turning to black of night, equally as fired as the hues of the leaves giving way to sparkles and burst of evening sprights, the love sprights have been dancing back out from their hidden corners, totally free of spirit, celebrating their exchanges of love with all the elements.
Pi aspect embodied - soul of this natural confluence of realms within realms is filled with a wild mix of realities - the full range of passions of our sphere of happenings are playing out together.
Just as the missives - the collective notes of deepest el voices - join with the elements of this place and time - moved also are our lovely barkeep, and Abby & Josh & Bets & Ben & Belle & Ned - engaging all about the Hollow - and inward rushing are all of these others…
…carried upon their virtual stream, building upon their fury of hurt, raging in deluge toward their targets - their notes of passion compels them…
…tis peak time at their beloved Hollow - long lost to the ravages of the loose and wayward - led astray by the so-called elites…
…time to reclaim for the rest of us - thus their shrieks burst into rallying cries, seeking to burry all as themselves, forcing their fright upon the convergence of shadows and colors:
It’s crazy - wild - out of control - no wonder people keep disappearing - we’ve seen several go and never come back #hollow
Whew - it’s that new bunch running the place - God they make my blood boil #decadent #hollow
Worse - doing evil there - really - dangerous - #witchhollow - #witchhunt
I’ve heard other reports - always these long explanations about getting lost - about finding themselves - what bs - aaagggh - can’t stand them - just like all the others running things around here these days #takeitallback #losthollow
They don’t know what the f they are doing - alway preaching - ditto on explaining - just tell us the straight scoop! #truth #trust #ourhollow
Wouldn’t believe them if they did - it’s time to make something happen - need to get their attention - make a few of them disappear #actnow #seizethehollow
Tis an altering of state, a separating of norm, just as disjointed as the i-chatter on the Conneks, here in direct engagement, the inner el voices converse along their own nebulous time-line - notes are launched and received in a totally indeterminate manner, and are triggering passions out of any “normal” sequence.
Ah, the buzzing of spirits, the rising of colors - throughout the ancient forest there is a shared sense of the witches and ghosts of the spooky night ahead - triggering passions and setting off a new chorus of notes, heard and unheard, stoked by a fierce blast of fire before the orb disappears once again.
Also in parallel, in their own dimension among the limitless aspects, Ben and Bets have been taking it all in, venturing along the vital pathways of knowing, and now as one with their collective, mysterious strength, they are triggered.
They had arrived early, well ahead of their assembling clan, and had navigated the twisting paths of this ancient destination towards the B&B where they will all be staying, and then to this inn, and now beyond a bit, their silent notes swirling now as they re-focus: What is this all about? Of loving souls seeking to disappear for a time? Or is it lost souls seeking love? mmmmm
“I see why the traditionalists are so upset - even here, in this perfect getaway so close to everything - even with these awesome days and this setting at this wonderful time of year, the chatter and noise intrude,” Bets says as they move to the opening to the knoll.
“It all merges together, from so many sources, and it’s barging in right now, I fear, in the currents we have detected - it affects what people do, and they feed on each other - look at those people right around us - whether they understand it or not, it moves them, too.”
Just as the crusaders have overtaken the crossroads within the forest, Bets takes Ben’s hand, and nudging him, they stroll into it all…
… gesturing, he follows her gaze to another couple who appear to be walking behind yet another, chuckling he whispers, “funny… stalking just like us…”
He delights as she leans in to him, her classic wicked humor barely suppressed, reveling in their indulgence, she allows out one of her trademark low moans of excitement, “ooh, many of us are about in these woods… come…,” tugging, she leads them aside in to the enveloping shadow.
Already the mist is starting to move back in - down the various paths, couples and other groupings go, disappearing, “sush… but look, off they go - hold here - let’s see exactly who goes - try to listen to these sounds - are they connected?”
Excited in their stealth, they embrace - delighting also in these special offerings of their own, their own glimpses reflected back.
“Which should we follow? We must pursue! Down these paths, things are happening…”
“These sounds we have heard are happening, as well… mmmm… We don’t yet grasp all that is happening - and likely never will!. But see, close at hand, those are runners, and there, those see those two loners?”
“Yes - and those honks and yells and screams we heard seem to come from several of those paths - and are still going on, whatever they are - so low, so faint, so muffled - can’t tell of of joy or not.”
“Oh my love - just like out there - can’t tell what is real, what is true, which way to go, who to follow.”
“mmmm, yes - and here, like there, best to really look, take it all in, find our inner el voice and understand - someone must.”
This clearing just in front them, an extension of the old stonework of the tavern and deck is cast in sharp extremes of dark and brilliance, alternately highlighting and further concealing the odd assembly of souls that had, just moments before, been serenely lost in the gray, absorbing the magic of the woods, nicely disappearing into their own realms.
The fiery orb now at it’s own extreme, on the very edge, already leaving the depths of the forest in the deepest of shadow, here, very nearby the crossroads, yet seemingly of another realm, as the brightest of colors still play in the final rays.
This one fellow, this old soul, he had been sitting on the rocky shelf that outlines his favorite destination within the overall. He also had been alerted from his beautiful daydream by new movements, his fanciful thoughts - like sprightly els - migrating out from deep within the forest - I love it here - but there is something more happening - elements definitely are swirling - not my dream - flitting from point to point.
His busy eyes were detecting a darting and weaving - intent, sharp, on alert - noticing everything happening in the Hollow - too much - such a bizarre mixture pouring in amid the shadows & colors - his thoughts race, turning from visions of delights to haunts of witchcraft surely afoot, harm may enter these lovelies, even here!
Look at that bunch! Actually running here! In their little outfits! It’s been a warm Indian Summer day, yes, but the temperature is dropping and the fog is starting to roll in with the shadows. Don’t they know? Don’t they care? Look; they have separated and gone on by different paths. Oh no, that creep notices them, too. Better keep an eye on her, the lovely one.
Glaring at the loner hiding in the dark corner by the huge oak as he hurries after the woman, both disappearing down the hill, yet another lost soul rises to these developments.
Alarmed, as well, by these new movements breaking the pattern before him, roused from his favorite spot of reflection by this sudden influx - that was the familiar fellow who is always here, always buzzing about - now he is following the one gorgeous one.
New, fresh worries - he is certainly creepy, but I’ve come to know him - harmless - thus he deliberates as the rest of this odd assembly, having paused at the intersection, is now departing.
And of course, here come these other curious ones, launching themselves in response - such are these times - the chatter is full of others just the same - so easily provoked - and many many more, all descending here, spurred on their various noble missions by the incessant Conneks that they can’t turn off -
All transpiring before him - my how the twists and turns here never end - what a hoot they all are - who needs tv or internet? - this is my entertainment - he muses as he can’t contain his merriment - must be the witches and goblins - mmmmmmmmmm mmmmmmmmm - he doesn’t try to restrain his sing song humming - in perfect tune with the winds now stirring the few remaining colors of the ancient trees.
He decides to move on, as well - giving his own glacial chase of the rest of the runners and stalkers, who have also disappeared, just as the sudden shift in the atmosphere takes hold - the parting riot of hues of the late day sun off of the leaves and wide range of architecturally rich structures - uniquely in full view from this central, elevated vantage point - all is swiftly becoming lost in the influx of mists so typical of this place.
All of the Hallow is emerging this Eve - a common correspondence of ethereal notes, of missives of souls, of ethereal spiders stalking and weaving - all of the elevated spirits sending and receiving as one, merged and joined - and now particularly on alert by these…
Nicely on edge, and then some, maybe too much? This is what we came here for, but this seems so real…
Get out of our way! Get off the road! Get off these paths! Don’t you know? Haven’t you heard?
Push them out of the way! Scare them, hurt them, rough them up - it’s our way now!
Ah this is glorious - better than we expected - so beautifully creepy - pour it on!
Which way to go, whom follow, or just go back - seeing and hearing witches - our missives are working their magic… #takebackthehollow
Such a wild and wicked mix this night - souls from their haunts are swirling - oooooh and booh - such witches and ghosts and other lovers abound!
Collisions are everywhere in the shadows and colors and encroaching dark of All Hallows Eve - the brew is rich, the moment is at hand for the wily spirits of the Hollow…
Tis bound to happen with so many, so fiery, so impassioned at wild extremes - listen, sense, feel the inner el voices and the notes as they flood the nooks and paths of the Hollow - none shall sleep tonite…
They come for mischief, they play at tricks and treats, time to send our own missives into the fray - let every touch and poke reveal, lure and prod, and enable the ghosts to dance together…
Ah the power, the driving forces all in play - of love and hate, both - and shared intimacies of deepest cares and fears - let our witches in all forms work their wicked magic this night…
The sounds of night - oooh do they do twist and carry with the magic of this forest - Blurring and confusing locations and distance, each of our lovers are now stilled by instinct to absorb. Surely there are more at play than ever, more encounters, more happening here than ever before. Many are the spirits about this Hollow this eve…
The soft caress of night - mmmmmm so delicious - in this magical twilight we are lovingly touched - how marvelous to openly respond - thus the perfect Autumn eve extends its’ reach - for every jolt of alarm are countless more of calm - pure serenity.
Forever it is this way - the natural and all-so-real fears and shocks, they stoke and provoke - pure reaction without thought - all hype and extreme passions feeding a brew of ever increasing poison - a witches brew for sure - until…
…Until critical points are breached - until the equally natural counters emerge and hopefully, a balance is restored…
Thus the most masterly of the elspirits launch their own missives, their ethereal spiders, luring the obsessed towards the true champions, the children of the forest, and pray that the spell will be broken before greater harm is done.
These most elevated of spirits, seemingly of pure fantasy and magic until touched - tis the only way to know and is the focus of our witches and ghosts and other lovers this All Hallows Eve - their spiritual form is now fully stoked and swirling all about the Hollow.
Tis the witching hour. One by one they reach their limit and find that innermost el spirit - they discover themselves echoing back from their other loving souls, collectively touched and reminded of the true depth of frights on this All Hallows Eve.
Not all hype and delusion are these spirits of rage - in their own realities they dwell, but in this all too real aspect of things, their rants of harm triggers acts that are all too real.
The most gentle of gentle folk, the runners, are truly run over - free spirits are truly assaulted as they dance and offer their timeless gifts of love - stalkers are colliding with stalkers - enragers with ragers - and perhaps the most extreme of horrors, the misled saviors, blindly following their champions of fear and hate - they blindsided by their own weaknesses and obsessions are the most lost of all.
With each collision, with each critical point reached, nano bits of new missives fly.
One by one the spell begins to lift - the eternal cycle is repeating all around the Hollow - but not before, once again, the true harm of the sphere of harm is visited upon us all.
Critical points spark new swirls of missives of elevated spirits, a collective migration back to home - once again an emergence of the all powerful Center of things.
Fleetingly are eyes opened for some - forever transformed are others. For an ethereal moment their is a pause in the happenings all over the Hollow.
Pushed to the rough forest floor by sharp elbows and more, Belle and Ned finally do lash out and cry out - their genuine distress finally provokes a turning - torches and lanterns illuminate more than expected - madness is revealed - a spell breaks - underlying things that truly matter are remembered - this is not the way…
…Stop…. Halt… Bring your lights to bear… new missives - new notes flood the nooks and dells - truly frighted and shocked children of the forest see themselves together - look around us - such a beautiful night - such beautiful possibilities - what are we about?
Abby and Josh emerge and reveal themselves - shining their own lanterns at true threats of harm - they launch themselves into the fray before them - “this is not the way!” “look at yourselves” “we love it here” “you used to” “remember why”
The lights of the nearby Promontory converge with the headlights from the onrushing mob - starkly illuminated, their mood triggered by unmistakable cries just ahead, Ben and Bets find themselves transformed, triggered, strengthened - a wave a clarity fills them and they stand firm and call out “Stop!”
A sleepy hollow it soon will be again - the wicked spirits that are now converged - for many the spell is broken, but not for all - witches and ghosts and other lovers, they can now see each other for what they are - but this moment never lasts…
The fallen are lifted up amid the crazed mix of wild extremes - even they see themselves in each other, for this infinitely minute and vast space in the sphere of happenings - wide-eyed they are with the clarity of emergence - all are loving spirits at heart - all are in love with this beloved haven of tangles of paths and dells - such are their own pathways - but in letting go and losing ways they came here on this All Hallows Eve from opposite and all shades and extremes aspects…
The natural ebb will soon take hold once again - such flowerings must be savored and their mark made deep while they last.
One by one they recede and regroup, each finding their own natural balance, as best they can - those who are most completely one with the very soul of this magical realm, they find themselves in each other…