Glimmer
My aunt once told me about an old legend about the woods in Sleepy Hollow, Hampshire. If you go there at midnight, you might be lucky to get a glimpse of your future. I thought it was nonsense, but would try anything once.
It was beautiful there. Fingers of moonlight danced between the trees, lighting the path before me, so far no strange manifestations, no flickering phantoms.
The deathly silence gave me a chill. Aunt and her strange stories, I told myself. Then I noticed a light shimmering to my left. You could be forgiven for thinking someone had dropped a handful of sequins. Thing is, they hadn’t reached the ground. They danced between the trees, heading for the cliff edge where I didn’t like to go, not being good with heights. I had no choice; I had to follow the faint flickering as best I could. I knew it was leading me.
The trees now behind me, and there she stood, right on the edge of the cliff. Long dark hair, slender, wearing a pink summer dress. From what I could tell, she could be in her mid-twenties. Why was she contemplating her end?
What could I do?
I heard my aunt’s voice in my head, Don’t shout, think of something. I noticed a large stick lying on the ground. Picking it up, I used it as a crutch. Lifting one leg, I moved closer so she could hear me.
“Miss, please, I am lost and hurt, I need your help.” I heard myself pleading, “Please turn.”
Once more, I called,” Miss, please…”
She turned.
The moment I saw her face, those dark eyes and tears on her cheeks, her soft lips trembling, I knew I would marry this vision, my own woodland nymph.
Slowly she moved towards me and helped me back to the road. I couldn’t let her go and I didn’t. Twenty years later and we are still married.
You see, I believe the light that led me to her was her soul, her spirit, calling for my help…
©Anita Dawes
Title: Tales from the Irish Garden
