The fairy songs become clear when the leaves start to change. I can hear them calling me, their voices ring in the rain drops and murmur in the dry grass. They follow me in the fall, in my time of birth and rebirth, to remind me that I belong with them and have no need to trouble myself with the terrible happenings outside of their realm. What a relief it is to hear them call me by my name and beckon me toward the magic and away from the world of power and the ruthless snakes who wield it. I live here among those wolves, but my spirit is with the whisps, flitting through the forest toward the sea.

I like to imagine myself far from here and now, living in a quiet space in the trees. All my chores are slow and practiced, my life is simple and divine. The sunlight has glitter in it and my ba

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