The meeting
There was once a time when I thought Nature was a living thing…
Well, of course it is. But the extent of that is far greater than I could ever imagine. And there is love, too. Lots of it. Overwhelming, omnipresent, all-embracing. If you just stop some day – any day – and listen… No, not listen. Breathe… No, that’s still not quite that. I think, maybe, Feel is the best word for it. Although I’m not entirely sure that there is a word for it. But let’s say Feel. So if you stop one day in the middle of nature, and Feel, you can tap into that love source and share some. You cannot drain it, ever. Love, or Life, if you will, is giving and getting and nothing more and nothing less. You give out CO2, you get O2, it’s this simple with anything. It makes you belong. And that feeling is what we all crave, isn’t it?
I was walking one day with my dogs. I do that almost every day lately – any day I can, at least. I very often look at the trees, the hills and the streams as I walk through field and meadow. I wander and wonder. Every day. The beauty is ever changing but never fading. When the sun shimmers though the leaves, when the wind makes them shiver and even when rain makes them glisten with moisture. Always a wonder. I usually stop at one particular spot. One I’ve dreamt about long time before I started these walks. It’s a small hill rising from a tall-grass meadow, near a thicket. There are large boulders at the top – partly submerged within the ground – that look as if they once formed a shape. What shape, I dare not guess. I stop there, play with the dogs some and then just sit, silent, observing the Beauty around me. I sometimes think of taking pictures of it. I have my phone with me most times and these would make very beautiful wallpapers for devices. I might even monetize some of them. But I worry that people would start wondering where this is and come here and ruin it. So I don’t.
This one day was no different. Sitting atop this small hill, I have been scanning the short valley below and another hill across it. As I lay my eyes upon it, I thought I saw a peculiar thing there. A human-like shape against the clouded sky. I blinked several times and the shape was gone. But I was sure I’ve seen it. So very certain. Yet there was no movement except the natural movement of the breeze in the tall grass. I come here nearly every day, for a half year now. I observe the changes in nature and I love it. But never have I met another human here before. Not in these places. There’s a road for motor vehicles nearby and sometimes it’s hissing and roaring can be heard here but that’s all that resembles any human presence around here. Despite the field in the valley, there is still that wild spirit of Nature in here. The one you can sometimes feel in deep old woods or amidst forgotten thickets. That’s why I love to come back here.
I suddenly felt a strange unease, a familiar anxiety. Rather unexpected in these places. The feeling of being watched, observed. I looked around me. All I could see were the large stones, laying in disorder, a few solitary dry-trees and the thicket of bramble and twig and leaf. Yet I felt this urge inside me to get up and leave here immediately. But I decided not to obey. I was so eager to examine this. I had to figure out what forces or people or whatever-it-was, was toying with me. I always believed in hidden spirits within Nature. Then, I realised why this feeling felt so pressing. The dogs. They were gone. No sign of them anywhere. No sniffing, barking, no sound of paws tapping through the tall grass, no hopping above the stalks in the field below. I didn’t even hear any bird song. An eerie silence lay around me. And in this silence, I heard footsteps. Human, not animal, yet strangely feral. Or so it felt. And that was when I saw him for the first time. The druid, as I call him for myself. And as he, from what I know now, would never call himself.
“Good day to you,” he said in a strangely squeaky voice. As if though he had not spoken for a very long time. He was not old. Nor was he young. In truth, it was very hard to guess his age from his appearance. He hadn’t worn any clothes. His body was covered in animal pelts and leather stripes crudely tied together and covered with leaf. He only carried one piece of iron which was something reminding a spike from a spear or a very simple knife. It hang from his belt, tied with one of the leather stripes. He himself was of a mighty stature. Certainly not the one I glimpsed across the valley. His wild emerald eyes were reading me, scanning my posture, my sport clothes made of recycled plastic. His hair were long, muzzled, tangled in dreadlocks, spiked with occasional twig or animal bone here and there. From what I could see, I’d think they were once auburn. I had not answered his greeting and he did not seem bothered by that in the least. He grinned. I think it was supposed to be a smile. That’s what I returned.
“Please, sit,” he exclaimed, pointing his long staff made of oak branch at one of the boulders. I obeyed, still looking around for my dogs. “They’re fine,” waved the stranger towards a distant grove, “I sent them hunting.” Okay. They know the way home, if anything happens, so I did not worry. This druid was my new interest. I sat there on the rock, watching him curiously.
“What’s your name?” I asked finally, too fascinated to keep good manners.
“And what is yours? I have been watching you, young man,” he grinned again.
“Young man? You look the same age as me, and I’ve been called ‘daddy’ before.”
“I may look many things that I am not. Though I remember that you people used to have some manners back in my days.”
“Your days? When was it?” I grew even more curious.
“One and a half oak-life ago.” That means some seven hundred, maybe more.
“How old are you, really?”
“Very.”
“Are… are you… dead?” I asked carefully.
“Do I look dead to you?” he wrinkled his face.
“No, sorry, you don’t. But you should be. If you are human, that is…”
“I was human when I was born. Not far from here, as a matter of fact. But I became one with nature so now I am just that. One with nature. I do not know any word for it and I would not have any.”
“D- Neither do I,” I removed the d-word from my mouth.
“Well, that is that for today,” he rose up. “I shall be going now.”
“No, wait,” I hurled up. No sooner had my dogs gotten to me, when I was up on my feet. I greeted them briefly, they jumped, all happy and breathing heavily as if they ran a long distance. When I glanced back up to see the man, he was gone. No sign of him. Not even a trace of footsteps. Nothing.
I have walked around that place for another month and I haven’t met him again. I stayed there for longer periods of time, even, but to no avail. Until one day, when I was walking without my dogs. A storm was coming from the west, from the sea. The air was already thick with the expectancy of a heavy rain. I walked quickly to get back home before the storm would hit. That was when I saw him for the second time. I didn’t recognize him at first. He was all naked. Beautiful, strong young man, sitting atop one of the boulders, his back turned to me. He was looking across the valley to the hill across, sitting under the branches of a long dead tree, hugging his knees. His hair was clean and unevenly shortened, looking all bushy. He didn’t turn to me but greeted me with a raised hand, gesturing me to sit next to him. I obeyed, not even doubting.
“Let us get cleansed,” he said calmly. His beard was also unevenly shaved, perhaps with that one piece of iron I had seen on him the first time we met. “Undress and hide your things beneath the stone or they will be soaking wet after this.”
I hesitated but just for a moment. I did what he asked me. While I was undressing I could smell his masculine scent. He smelt like dirt and leaf and man sweat. I had to try very hard not to leap at him at once.
“Let us whether the weather together,” he laughed at the word play he made. He sounded much younger and his voice was much clearer than the last time. And then the storm came.
The storm
Lightning flickered above us and a mighty thunder shook the ground. I was glad the dogs weren’t with me, they wouldn’t have liked this at all. I was scared myself but I had to man up and not show the druid the weaknesses of my time. I was sure that thunder was something the old people weren’t afraid of. He smiled at me, as if energized with the mighty roar of the storm. His smile did look like a smile this time. He has changed a lot but his eyes betrayed him. I could tell it was him even if I only saw those.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said. “When you are with me, the storm shall not hurt you.”
I nodded. I couldn’t take my eyes away from his hairy chest. Wild growth of auburn hair covered his breast and continued down thick. He was still hugging his knees and sitting in such angle that I couldn’t see any more.
Another lightning and a crack of thunder announced the coming rain. And rain did come. Heavy, moist, electric-charged. I could feel it washing me and powering me up with unknown force. It was almost religious, or maybe it was religious indeed, but the feeling was one I shall never forget. The druid looked up to the sky, let out a groan and lay his back on the boulder. His hands outstretched and his legs hanging freely down. I could see his manhood with a ginger growth about it and it was immense. But strangely, this didn’t fill me with a thrill or excitement rather than with respect and admiration. This man, who could have been the stallion and take any woman (or man) he liked, chose to spend time as a hermit amidst nature. What a man!
“Lay here with me,” he shouted through another thunderstrike. “Let the rain wash off your worries and fears.”
The rain was already as strong as a shower and as thick as if someone was pouring buckets from above us. I lay next to him on the large boulder, copied his position and closed my eyes. I heard the rain rumbling and rustling all around. And I could feel the many raindrop fall upon my skin only to crawl down and soak into the boulder beneath me. I did feel cleansed. Charged, even, with the unknown power. But also, being a modern man of modern life standards, I was getting rather cold. The rain was still pouring heavily as I started to shiver. I looked at my companion who lay on his back, eyes closed, apparently enjoying this experience. I couldn’t say the same about me. Well, I did enjoy that but also I was freaking cold! I wanted to go somewhere dry and warm. But I also didn’t want to loose this man who was getting more interesting by the minute. I cuddled myself as a baby would and lay on my side on the still-warm rock, my back towards the druid and my eyes closed. I was just hoping for the rain to end soon.
I was trembling hard when I started feeling much warmer. It was coming behind me and it was very pleasant. No sooner had I realised where did the warmth come from when I felt the druid’s hand upon my chest. It was him! Spooning me so I wasn’t cold. My tremor remained but it was for a different reason completely.
“Hush now, I shall warm you. We do not want you to get sick.” And he cuddled me and I hugged his arm as the most precious thing in the world. I could smell a hint of his musk and I felt safe. Then the storm passed.
The story
As we sat, next to each other, on large boulder atop the hill, drying in the evening sun, the druid looked up towards the sun, grinned and started to unveil a story… He told me of his childhood as a stableboy and how he had to flee his raging father when he set their horse free.
“He asked me to,” he told me, “how could I not set him free?”
“I understand… Wait, what?! You can speak with animals?”
“But of course. All children of the Mother can. You too. But most humans choose to ignore those voices. Anyway, then I ran and I could never come back home, I knew that. My father would have killed me. It was summer and I hid in the forest. I did know some basic trapping and fishing and the fruit was abundant. I supported myself this way and hid from anyone who would come by. But then the cold autumn breeze came and I could no longer sleep outside. I came across a grumpy bear living in a cavern nearby so I asked her to stay the winter together. Reluctantly, she agreed. The bargain was I keep her safe from trackers and hunters and in exchange I could share the warmth of her den.”
“Did you sleep the whole winter?”
“No, though I certainly wanted to. But somehow, I persevered until the solstice. It was so freezing then, that I could not find anything to eat, nor hunt any animal. I could not make a fire for the woods were all moist and frozen to glass-like quality. I snuggled with my sleeping bear friend but I was so famished I could not sleep. So I ventured out of the den and onto the snow I fell, giving myself away for the animals to feed. Giving my life back to Mother Nature. And that was when She gave my life back to me, again. I thought I was dying. The day was short and I was freezing to the bone. My vision clouded, my breath stopped misting and my mind was very still. I could see the sun setting for the last time. And I let out my last breath. Peace. Unity. Tranquillity. I was dead. And then I wasn’t.
“A rush of life sprang into my veins, my lungs, my brain. Now I could even see life as light. I still can see it as you do but I got another dimension, or a layer, of sight added to the whole picture. Now, as it is summer, everything is bright with life. But then, in the winter, I could only see a small timid light in every tree. But it was hidden deep within. The animals though, were shining like stars. In the trees I could see dreys of squirrels, above them some birds, clutching together for warmth. Back from the lair I came out of, I could see my friend bear, shining softly in her slumber. Then I looked at my hands and they shone like an evening sun. The rest of my body as well. I glowed with life and then I spotted the earth beneath my feet. From within, there came a mighty greenish light pulsating with endless potency. The Mother. I knelt down and kissed her and then I realised – I did not feel cold anymore. The winter was now natural to me. A part of me. Not bothering me, nor exhausting my body energy. I took to hunting again and I easily survived until spring. My friend bear awoke that spring, expecting to find me lying rotting somewhere around. How surprised she was, and pleased, to see me. We had been friends ever since, helping each other occasionally. I have protected her cubs, and their cubs, for many years. Until you humans slaughtered most of them. But there still are a few. Hidden. Protected. You will never find them. But they are here.” He paused to look to the near thicket. I looked that way and again felt the same familiar unease I have felt before. Being observed. So it must have been a bear, not this druid.
“Why do you say us like I was one of them? I’m no hunter, nor do I approve killing animals for sport or pleasure.” I said softly.
“You are one of them. You live with them and kin with them.” He said, gently, but also firmly.
Then he rose up and walked away.
“Wait!” I exclaimed. “Will I see you again?”
“Yes,” was all he said. But I could read in his eyes that it was going to be soon.
The other story
It was not a week after the storm. Surprisingly, I didn’t catch cold, as I usually do. I walked again with the dogs. It was sunny and – based on my previous experience – I did not expect the druid to come, although I made some effort to look good. But there he was. Already sitting on the boulder. His hair was cut almost the same as mine and he wore a long furry vest. I was glad that I too made myself pretty. My walks were no longer just sport runs. I dressed smart-casual, as much as walk in nature allowed me. That day I had a blue t-shirt, brown chinos and small brown leather backpack. I carried in there a warm blanket and a raincoat, in case I would stay with him a little longer. I was, and I can admit it now, falling in love with this mysterious man. And form his countenance I deducted he felt the same.
As I approached him, he smiled. I did too. Got up from the stone to greet me. And then, without warning, he came to me and he hugged me and he kissed me. My knees felt suddenly somehow gelatinous. But I managed to stand my ground and leaned towards him as he caught me firmly in his grasp. His manly, ginger, earthy-smelly masculine grasp. His mouth tasted like herbs and his breath smelled like summer. And his eyes. Oh, his bottomless emerald eyes. I could drown in that sight and it would be my greatest delight to do so. I wanted him, that was sure. But never have I expected, after centuries of hermit life, that he would be so straightforward with me. We kissed for what felt like hours but the watch on my wrist said it was only some fifteen minutes. I did have the urge to go on, as he was wearing only the vest and I could see that he was also very much functional in the manner of mating. I could feel him through my chinos but I dared not kneel and continue, which I would have done with anyone else.
Then, I startled up the rock because I saw a huge brown bear approaching me. My dogs were out of sight and I hoped they were okay. The bear made its way towards me and climbed up the boulder effortlessly. I froze.
“Do not be afraid, you. This is Misha, she is a descendant of my friend I told you about the last time. Just kneel to her so she can sniff you. She will smell me from you now so you need not worry. She is a friendly furry.”
I did what he asked and knelt to the bear. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe deeply. I was trembling with fear but she was indeed gentle. Her cold snout running through my hair and about my forehead and cheeks. Then, she gave me a nudge with her head and walked off. From behind the thicket, my dear doggos came out running and playing. Apparently, they had known Misha well because they didn’t stop and joyfully jumped around her to start a play. I felt relief and I thought that this is the life I could have forever. I looked at the druid, who wouldn’t call himself a druid and my eyes were taking in every detail of his body. For I could see all that. His muscular stature, his thick auburn body hair and his shiny ginger beard. To me, he was a god walking this earth. A god who was interested in me, a mere storyteller. I felt very lucky.
His manhood was still erect and huge and his eyes flickered with wilderness. He looked eagerly at me and I melted under his gaze. I was dreaming this day would come so I always went for my walks well-prepared. I unbuttoned my chinos, kicked off my sneakers, pulled off my t-shirt. He saw me naked before so I wasn’t shy. But I was so very much filled with excitement that I quivered softly. He eyed my naked body, from my head to my toe. He stopped in the middle only to look into my eyes again. I felt the lust for him and I saw he felt the same. He approached, threw off the fur vest and manned me. Wildly, deeply, thoroughly. He was deep inside me and I was all his. We made love and we became one.
After that, we sat on the boulder. Happy, sweaty and breathing heavily. I still felt his warmth within me and he didn’t let go of my hand. I leaned my back towards him and he let me brush my back against his chest, still heaving with breathing. He held me in his arms and I was on the brink of happiness. I looked up to him, he looked down at me and kissed me on the forehead. He wrapped his hands around my chest and I wrapped mine around them. Then he sighed and started the other tale.
“You know why I come here? This – only place where humans can truly find me?”
“To meet me?” I smiled vainly. He returned my smile but proceeded:
“To observe the hill across the valley. You see? That one. I believed once that there was my love. I met a boy before. Long long time ago.” As he spoke, he was gently caressing my chest and my hand with his thumbs.
“I was a boy, still a young groom, when I met a boy at the stables. We were barely adult but we could both speak to horses and sometimes we rode them together through the woods and to that lake over there. We thought it was far from everyone. And there we kissed and touched and experienced our young bodies. One day, the boy’s father hid in the bushes nearby to observe us. We had no idea and once we eagerly came upon each other, he appeared and beat him bloody in front of me. There he was, my lover, cowering and crying and shaking all over and I could not do anything. I never saw him again after that day.
“His father was a shepherd and had a flock of a hundred sheep. I believed that he was made to tend to them. No more experience, no more service for my father, no more freedom for him or our love. Later that year I let one of our horses – the one he used to ride – loose and you know the rest. I have never seen my love since, or maybe I have… My first year of being reborn I spent in the forests around. Hunting and fishing and gathering, providing for myself and leading hunters off the track of Misha’s great-grandmother and her cubs.
“One morning, it was summer, some time before the solstice, I saw him – or I believe it was him – on that hill over there. He stood there. A man, a horse and a flock of sheep. I jumped atop this very boulder and waved and shouted and tried to get his attention. He just stood there. Still, unmoving, silent. By the end of the day, he turned and left. Of course, I can never be certain it was him, I never saw his face and from this distance he was merely more than a silhouette. But I wanted to believe… Over the years, I spotted him there several times. But I never got myself to visit him. I loved him so much that I never wanted him to suffer for me again. I became bitter and hard-headed. But I kept coming here every day.
“Some fifty winters later, I felt him. I was sure it was him. I was having my winter slumber in the bear den – I can do it since my rebirth – and I felt him in my dream, observing me, caressing me. Sending me his love. And I think that was the last of him.”
“But why didn’t you go look for him?” I wondered. “His father must have passed sooner or later and then you could be free, together…”
“No. We never would be,” he sighed deeply. “This is a different time and you are very lucky to have been born to it. But in our times there was the strong hand of the Rome normalising these lands, banishing our old gods, renaming Mother to anonymous Holy Spirit so that people would forget where their life power comes from. And they did. And as they did, they forsook the old gods, the true forces that could help them, and turned to imaginary invisible person in the sky who told them how bad and rotten they all are. And human culture became like this for centuries. Only recently have you decided to rise from the ashes. The wars have opened your eyes.”
“Wait!” I straightened up. “So you really are that old! Centuries?”
“Well, yes,” he shuddered.
“And you’ve lived through the wars? How was it?”
“Bad. Lots of trees fell, lots of fields and meadows trampled into mud. And there are remnants to this day. Everywhere. Metal pieces, sunken beneath, death-shining things and more. But the few people who met me and lived, they remember me.”
“People? You? I thought you were hiding?”
“I was. But so were they. I helped many a young man to survive. Some even spent the winter in the den.” He smiled, dreamily.
“So,” I started carefully, “you are very far from being a virgin, is that right?”
“The nature does not forbid mating, unlike your new religions. What we did before was a blessing, a sacred act. And also feral and wild and unbound. That is nature. Freedom.”
“Can I stay here with you? Forever?” I asked, my eyes glistening with tears. I was never so sure about anything.
“Forever is a long time,” he smiled at me.
“I wouldn’t know, I never tried,” I chuckled.
“You have my seed within you. If you let it into your system, you may live as long as you want. I shall be here all the days to come as I have been for the past – what did you say? Hundreds of years – could be… I stopped counting long ago.
“I shall be here and you can come and join me any time. But I do not own you, nor shall you own me. We can be together, if we choose to, and we may be apart. We can mate with other creatures, or we may not. But there are no human restrictions here. The only rule out here is: Nature is sacred.”
“I like that,” I smiled and lay my head comfortably in his lap. I could still smell the earthy-sweaty musk of his. I never felt more home than this. And as I looked to the hill across the valley, I could see a manly figure atop it, holding a shepherd staff, waving at us.
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