Green Survival

 

 

 

                               Crossing New Boundaries

 

 

 

 

     ..... This is a true story, though some of it has not transpired as of yet.

 

The outcome of the Final Battles are unknown and undecided.

Delay increases the chance of failure and of contributing to much greater suffering.

 

Disclaimer and partial Confession:

Much of the first half of the book comes from actual experiences. Many of the characters in the book are real people or composites of several people. Some have their original forest names and some do not. Some of these characters went on to lead large organizations or international protest campaigns, some stayed in the trees and some went underground (maybe). Some drew heat from the feds and others should have. I myself know little of anything that has taken place in the Northwest or in animal or forest defense since 2000.

             

 

                 GREEN SURVIVAL:

 

ELVES, HEALERS, FOREST DEFENDERS

      AND THE MAGIC TO WISH

 

 

                   A FANTASY NOVEL

 

                         BY

 

                     RATH AVENS

 

ALL MATERIAL PROTECTED BY Copyright,

 

CONTACT: literary_agent@yahoo.com

 

 

 

 

 

 ... " Come to me - Children of the Green Dream - for I need your innocent wishes. "

 

Follow the Gray Path with Elven Lore ... and you shall find

your role. Bring your friends who can balance the Three Motivations : the Self,

the Tribe, and the Future. This is the time - the Hour of Decision - for those

who fight for all species. This is the Battle of the Future. And this is your specie's last opportunity to re-route the path of evolution – to etch new patterns into a planet's fate. Walk with me, ... that slim path of chances, the Edge where Unconditional Love touches Unconditional Sacrifice. Somewhere in our Dreams, the Gray Path breaks through the trap and creates La Tierra Luminoso."

 

  Wolves circle warily as her spirit shell guards The Innocence...

Owl's green eyes speak words of finality. Claws of predation sink deep into

Bear's shaggy shoulder : " The Nature of Things is to seek life. The Web of Life, patterns awareness of Right Connections. Intimacy is the carrot and Chaos the stick. When you have seen My death, your heart will burst with the knowing.

  Magic and Chaos are the two components of Existence. Chaos tends to disrupt, to interfere, to trick, to corrupt and destroy. Magic is a neutral force which tends

to energize the Nature of Things and the Patterns of the Future. Beware the Agents of Chaos - those who would steal the magic - when Faith abandons Conscience.

 The Patterns of Life recycle nutrients and energy on Earth. I designed the Patterns with a piece of each God's heart. These are only borrowed. Each cycle, a new Chosen must earn the right to renew the Offering of the Gods. I , set the elves to guard the Patterns ... and like you they maintain that vigil unto death ... or worse.

  Humans let the "Glory of the Mad Child" trick them beyond the Patterns of Life. Now they wander a course aimed at Shadows. The Patterns ... are

threatened ! I made a mistake that I can not fix without your help. Humans have lost most of their elvish ability, but they - above all creatures - still dream and think into the future. That is your magic.

 

  Shadows reside in all things. Ignorance and denial amplify Chaos. The Shadows separate themselves with the Lost Magic. They manifest Fates. The Magic and

the Beauty, which the Gods created, have worked too great an enchantment.

Even the Gods forgot their Shadows ... Chaos potential multiplies the longer you deny the Sacrifice of the Chosen. Your delay questions the very Nature of Things. Hasten, for the Magic evolves, and its momentum redefines its needs and its requirements. Vortexes of unfulfilled wishes clash with the Magical Defense - the Patterns of Life. Great or terrible Imprints demand expression. I cannot say whether the Union - the Great ... or the Sacrifice – the Terrible - shall prevail.

 

... The Nature of the Vortex is : to be appeased.

 

  Actions create side-effects unless 'The Root' is consulted. Realign the Powers

or else, edges will multiply and corrode deeper into your consciousness. Destroy the Lines of Greed which lead Shadow Wishes to the Portal. Darnovoi seeks the Dominion of the Nebyakin - an end to Life and Magic.

 

 

  ... Listen to the leaves' whisperings ... kiss the wind ... listen to the cries of the Earth and be the trailing wails of a vanishing specie. Reach out your toes to feel the edge of the abyss - where the Great Imprint draws cataclysm. Forget everything you 'know.' Discard all attachments and possessions. Follow your nose to

the intersections of greatest pain. Offer your life – at the very least ! Join those

fighting for all species and ... a chance comes to wish forth an Imprint :

One that brings together the Light and the Dark. Only then can new patterns

emerge - in time - and, ' There shall be a re- establishment of the

Original Nature of Things.' That is the Prophesy." -- (Brione's dream of The Wild Woman, '0002')

 

  Refugees, Gods ! So many refugees from the floods and nowhere to go, with violence in the cities. Those summers of '02 and '03, roads were clogged with bewildered folks. Some tried to get up into the hills, but most couldn't make it. The rivers were running wild and high.

  Our story was a common one, of those who thought they were ready. It's hard to really prepare when you've no idea what to expect. It helps to keep repeating: food and shelter, food and shelter...

  We set about to live deep into the forest. Alina and Sunshine knew much about gardening, wild foods, and food preservation. Fanghorn was only twelve, yet quite proficient at stalking with his bow. Ermine and Peak were young pros at security, planning and recons... We practiced making jewelry and talismans from

the unique objects we found in our wanderings.

  We found a nice summer campsite on a lush little stream. We hunted, grew hemp, and built natural material yurts. We often traveled to the Fairs and Gatherings selling or trading our homemade jewelry and raingear. People liked our pamphlets on the Elven Predictions and the Way of the Goddess. Sometimes we talked to people about how the Rednecks and Elves could live together and create a better world.

 

  A New Magic shall arise amid the rubble of a dying world or perhaps not dying but only the passing of the world as we knew it. I cannot see all who travel the Path nor what trials they must suffer, for a Disturbance - an unbalanced Power - seeks good but is untested. I know this for it will be a part of me, coming from my life or out from my life's changing. It will grasp and cling, yet with love and belief - the Savior will shine - the Portal will dim. -  Jarrel - Witch of Scarlet Glenn

 

This Book is dedicated to David Gypsy Chain, Naya (Santa Cruz); Beth O'Brien (Portland, Oregon)Tre Arrow, Rob Los Picos, Craig Marshall, Ted Kazinsky, (the dead weather underground), Chico Mendez, the Nun, the indigenous people of Bolivia and Ecuador, the guerrillas of Colombia , and all those who risk life, limb or liberty to stop the senseless destruction of Earth that we all depend on.... [ List to be continued...]

 

In these times we are in, there is but one path. If the animals could vote

 and the Future had a voice they would understand what we are fighting for. 

 

 

 

BOOK ONE :

ELVES, HEALERS AND ECO-COMMANDOS

 

 

 

 

Herein lies what is known of the Elves and their Queen, Lorien - Goddess of the Wildwood. These stories are like dreams, and this is not unusual when interacting with Elves. It is a turbulent connection we share with them - two worlds - once connected and now so different. Even for we of the Woods - magic is confusing - almost beyond our grasp - something felt and experienced, but not easily described. One minute the sense of the magic is everywhere and then suddenly events or destinies collide and something even more amazing is created from the Sacred Things and from Spirit !*!

  Understanding what has been and what will be remains a mystical challenge. To - you - who are stepping into our world * welcome. Enter the place where Time and Music fill the space between the Colors of Light and Love. Silence your eyes and let your Spirit find its way toward the Light - Truth - beyond the pain. Come and share our friendship and practice the Craft. Leaving behind your human ways is a slow and painful sacrifice. But it is one that must be endured if you would know the way and sort the wishes.

 

  Hesitate not at all...great joy and the fellowship of the Wild awaits your acceptance and your commitment. Try it. Why not ? What else is there to do ? Become an Elf, be strong... and be aware... and you will see. 

 

As The Dirt Settles Into Your Clothes And Skin;   

 As Your Hair Tangles And Collects Thorns

 And Seeds; As Your Body Eases Into

  The Tranquility And Peace Of The Bubbling

   Creek.... The Wind In The Trees;

   The Stars Shine Back Into Your Clearing

   Eyes And... The Silliness Of City Ways,

    Dissolves Away - As If ...It Never Could Have Been.

    Connections With The Wild Seep In

    And Grow Deep Within Your Soul. And

    You Are Free, Feral and Alive.

    You Can Never Be Alone Again For...

    We Are One: Wood Nymphs and Faery

   Pranksters; Butterflies, Sparrows

   Mushrooms...Earth Is Alive-Resisting - And Teaching..

    We Are Remembering Each Other.

   Listen And Pray For The Elves To Enter.

    Welcome A New Day - A New Way Of Old.

     For All... Blessings : To * Be !

 

E c o - S o c i a l  D e f e n c e - E S D      

 

  An ancient Raven with a broken beak got me lost in the woods one day.

It wanted to scare me into listening. It squawked:

" Nobody thinks about the creatures dying off forever. You - so called - Radicals -

Seekers of the Root - you can't figure out how or what to fight. Why don't you

spread your wings and fly out of Denial toward a little more Paranoia. You can't

just wish the world to be nice. Vague wishes often hurt: a nice world for lightning bolts or anaerobic bacteria is different than one for mammals and mushrooms. Humans were supposed to divine how the world works not reduce it to rubble trying to figure out their egos. What kind of world do you want, how will you get there ? Why don't you ever explain what your strategy is, or hopes to accomplish ?

  Since you ignore the animals and life that beg you now to fight like crazy - while there's still a shred of use for sacrifice... think up something that's a little more than symbolic art. Try this: Eco-social Defense. Decide, either by lottery or by virtue of eco-need and practicalities, a couple Counties that make sense to occupy, settle, and apply whatever it is you believe in. Publicize your plan and the target sanctuaries - places where people should relocate to. Raise money: bake sales, panhandling, hard work, or spin some chump change out of a fat cat like Soros or Ted Turner or Woody (if he gets fatter). Set up land trusts for low-impact eco-communities. Start building and planting trees, learning and teaching simple - living skills, and fighting (nicely ) to defend the ecology of your sanctuary.

  When enough people get there you take over all political offices and institute your radical 'bright' ideas. Then work on neighboring counties. I know its hard to abandon some struggles and places... but would you rather lose everywhere or win for sure in a few places ? There are a dozen important counties in the West that would each require only two to ten thousand new voters in order to dominate their politics. The State may try to stop you, or circumvent the Will of the People, but you'll have thousands of direct action die-hards to enforce your own law.

  That Raven still scares me. I can't stop thinking about ESD or coming up with something that makes sense - a way to live in this world that's outside denial and selfishness. The ESD plan makes sense, because it is already happening on its own (Humboldt, Eugene, etc.) . Many of the areas the Raven suggests we take over are likely to be swamped with refugees if the country slides much further into chaos and martial law. Without this plan, the ecology of these endangered regions is seriously threatened.

  ...A strange bird, but I kind of liked him, shabby and perfidious as it was. ... Who's paranoid ?

"ESD " Squawk ! : "Eco-social Defense , "Caw, Caw"

 

 

CHAPTER ONE: NETWORKS OF LIGHT

 

                OUR STORY BEGINS :

 

  Her Elven name was Anaya. For thousands of years she was the Forest Keeper of Lorien. Most of this time she sat in meditation at the heart of the ancient grove where Lorien had taught her the Patterns of Life and the Nature of Things.

  The last five years she had followed a group of young forest defenders. From afar she came to know them well as she shared their hard times and their moments of victory and celebration. These young people and thousands like them believed so strongly in the need for action that they came together in circles of friendship, tribes, permanent affinity groups where bonds of love and trust grew out of closeness and sharing until a new magic was discovered.

 

They believed in the Elves, in the Powers, and in themselves. Most of the world was beginning to thrash through a difficult transformation. It was this traumatic transition period from one world to another which the real healers feared would consume many lives unless they acted decisively. And so many healers and people who had vision came to the forest camps and the scattered communities of the Northwest. They embraced Eco-Social Defense, the front-line strategy and pretty much whatever the youth told them had to be done. A deep cultural revolution began to take hold. Even many locals who used to blindly hate the eco-freaks embraced this new way of peace and coexistence. Together they began to learn a "green survival"... maybe the world could still learn.

 

 

   Anaya first recognized that this particular group of forest defenders were the Chosen at EWOK II. As she looked up at the protesters' tree village high in the Redwoods and heard Brione and Amnesia talking to the moss and reaching out their love, she knew beyond doubt. And Aire with Redwood needles all matted in his curly black hair could surely be an Elf, except they never have dark hair. Maybe New York Gnome ? The Sheriffs could rarely spot him whether he was hiding in some logging slash or even walking right behind them. They were unraveling hidden, Elven Lore and Anaya wondered how long before they became aware of her. Even though the Chosen rarely talked about their new feelings and insights, the Forest Keeper withdrew her presence somewhat, waiting until they were ready.

 

   We are rising up like a Phoenix from a Fire,

   Brothers and Sisters spread your wings and fly higher

   We are rising, we are ri... s... ing...

   We are opening, We are o oO... pen... ning

 

  That Autumn and the following year Anaya kept her watch as the Chosen grew and learned more about the struggle ahead. Despite the interference of the Ego-Cult, the love and excitement of the Forest Defenders attracted many young people to the cause of Eco-Social Defense. The word spread and this new kind of kinship and Spirit-Power was contagious. Anaya returned to the Sacred Grove to connect the vibrations and discern the paths they might take.          

  It was no surprise to the Elves when the following summer a moratorium on most logging was hastily agreed to. There were so many defenders contesting every timber sale that neither the government nor the corporations could afford enough security forces to continue business as usual. There were worse problems elsewhere. The collapse of the Global Economy was sucking the USA into a chaos it would never rise out of. And people knew it - society was drifting in hopelessness. The riot threat and a turn toward uncontrollable violence were on many people's minds.

  So far everything had been peaceful, in the North Coast region. A lot of logging equipment was destroyed here and there, but few injuries or assaults occurred. Tension was building and Forest Defenders put effort into reaching out to all people.

 

One poster read:

  Dear People of Lorien: we the Forest People - your neighbors - ask for patience. None of us, alone, can change what is happening. The government and even common sense have misled many people. Excessive consumption, economic growth, and trusting the corporations were mistakes. Blaming each other will help no one. Fear will divide us if we don't resist our programmed emotions. Calm and hopeful cooperation can win the day.

  People continue to move here for sanctuary and to save the forests. Most have good hearts and seek only refuge, purpose and peace. You find life's meaning in hard work, church, and security for your families. We work hard surviving and defending what we love. The forest and everything living there is Sacred to us. Without healthy ecosystems few will survive the hard times ahead. Road building and clearcuts have taken the Salmon away that could have fed us all, but it's not too late to begin the restoration of this wondrous land we are so fortunate to live in.

 Changes are not easy. We have to believe in a way for all who love this region to live and work together. Our dreams need patience and a sincere desire to understand each other, or they will fail. No alternative avoids all violence and discomfort. Don't condemn any group for the rash actions of a few individuals. The government will discredit or kill forest defenders. They want division and people afraid of each other... but it won't work this time.  

  Creative and future-looking people from all perspectives will grasp what will be and what has to be done to get us there. Isolation and our Ranger Defense will stop the government from intervening in our experiment in cooperation if we are united or at least restrained. As an act of trust and good faith, Forest Defenders and the Eco-Commandos will begin a cease-fire and no new lands will be occupied within Lorien. The Logging and Mining Moratorium will be enforced. Electricity may not be available and transportation will be disrupted . But we will still have our fertile soils, our forests and our spirit to sustain us.

  Come and visit our camps and farms. We have food at our table for anyone who cares about peace and sharing. For Autonomy and Survival. -- The Forest People: El Norte Command

 

 

  Peace held on in many places that Fall and Winter. The Free-States took root and made their history. Food donations were abundant and a wild variety of shelters popped up across the land. A few truck drivers were injured when they resisted confiscation of their loaded log trucks. Three young people died attempting to bomb a major electric substation near the Siskiyou-Lassen boundary.

 

  Anaya knew what would happen next but much of the world was turning gray to her. Something was wrong, something changing the possibilities. Something she couldn't reach.

  And Death stalked the very heart of the Wildwood. Decay and the toxic hate of souls lost to evil's touch, reached unto the edges of the Sacred Groves. Shadows grew boulder, lingering, waiting...

  Elvenkind knew their final hour approached. In need they would make their final offerings and go back into the land and elements they came from. Always passive and nonviolent except for a few roads and bulldozers, the elves waited and watched as humans destroyed the forests and killed each other. Lorien, Goddess of the Wildwood, found her powers fading as did other of the Minor Powers. Magic was being drained into some spell or wish of infinite complexity. The Wildwood was dying with its magic. Elven children all died at birth and the souls of these tortured ones were trapped for some reason. These are the Wildryns of which little is known.

  Now, perhaps too late, Lorien guides the Forest Keepers to work with humans who in their heart of hearts desire to live simple and heal the planet. And the Wild-Fire went out to people's dreams so they relived the journey and struggles of a thousand generations of their ancestors... and what life was truly about through time and change. The Shadows were pushed back for now and fears subsided, allowing everyone a pause to think before they wasted their last chances ... Their Last Wish.

 

 

  Hazel parked her mountain bike next to Kith's and lay back in the grass and weeds next to the snag of an ancient Douglas Fir. Years of living wild out in the forests brought her many new skills, but the one she valued most was just being able to settle down and become part of your surroundings. Soaking up everything and tuning into the details around you. 

  You could never be alone once you knew Nature, she thought, as she watched the woodpeckers chipping away at the old tree above. It felt good to be a Forest Defender,

to be in these times, doing something... seeking a way that was beneficial... she let

her thoughts drift and Nature surround her.

  The sound of footsteps roused her from peaceful daydreams and she pushed herself up on one elbow to watch Kith coming around the corner of the road. She couldn't see too well through the branches but the dark ruffled hair and the dirty Carhart woods pants assured her that it had to be him. She knew almost every stitch on the numerous patches that barely held his lucky pants together. It wasn't that he liked looking sloppy. She knew, he was just too busy to care much about appearances. Besides, he thought he had her to help out in that department... or he used to have her that is.

 

She wanted to find out what had happened at the big meeting, but she also wanted just to listen and to be there for him.. As for the chasm that threatened their friendship since they had broken up a few months ago, well she wanted that chasm to mend, but she felt that it was out of her hands now and probably for the better. She started to get up as he approached until he launched himself down next to her and rolled over on his back holding his head like he didn't know whether he wanted comfort or to end it once and for all in a mighty squeeze.

 

 " Hey, Kith, why so glum ?" Hazel asked, her green eyes seeking to hold his and capture a glimpse of his true feelings. He didn't exactly answer unless you count his eyes which rolled up and then closed tight.

 " Oh, yeah, the meeting, how could I forget ?" And then she added automatically and not the way she wanted: "You didn't walk out on them again, did you ?"

 

  Though only twenty years old, she had been to more meetings and endless attempts at contrived consensus than almost anyone. She chided herself for the way she had asked Kith that last question, the tone she often used without thinking, the tone of authority that she couldn't shake... the thing that got her in trouble enough times... and with Kith and a few other guys too. Fortuitously, a spunky chipmunk scampered up to them and stood with its head moving from one to the other as if accusing them both of being silly and human.. Hazel wanted to shout at the innocent creature : " why do I have to be the one who knows everybody and all the factions, the splinters - and knows them so well too? I'll do anything - whatever it takes - but Gods ! it's really weird, like being Chosen by circumstance with a pile of crazy pieces trying to put themselves back together.

  She looked closer at her 'old' friend, her soft eyes trying to speak kindness and wanting him to talk … about the meeting, anything., but Kith's attention stayed absorbed with the chipmunk who he watched intently as if she wasn't even there.

 

  He knows I'm here for him. ... Open eyes kept insisting…

 

   Kith still didn't answer and Hazel rose up slightly to face him. The chipmunk scurried away at the motion and Hazel sat picking the pine needles and twigs out of her long blond braids. Kith stopped watching the chipmunk running away and moved closer to Hazel's side. .Finally, a slight smile broke across his face. Tensions eased away and she knew he was happy that she had waited for him.

  Kith spoke as he rubbed her knee, "Do you know it seemed like that chipmunk was trying to tell us something. He probably felt my grumpiness and wanted to remind me how animals are supposed to be." He sat up too and put one hand on hers, "No, I didn't run away from the meeting. and I guess its a good thing I didn't. Same old problems though. People's fears holding them back and their egos keeping them apart. When will we ever let go of the old ways ?" he said. Weariness showed through his cynicism. He shook his head and stretched his arms up as Hazel came closer giving him a little hug before she jumped up and grabbed his hand to pull, "I know, let's go to the cliffs by the beach. Come on," and she pulled him all the way up without much reluctance on his part.

 

  Gliding swiftly along the forest trails they knew so well, the two friends enjoyed the smells of the trees and the sounds of little birds chirping busily about their ways.

  Kith felt comfort to be out in the solitude with just Hazel. Sometimes they were so right for each other. Then other times... He remembered a year ago when things seemed simpler if crazier. The two of them used to ditch everyone else and head out into the wilds ... to be alone in their special places. Laying in the grass at the forest's edge, half sun, watching small white clouds cross the blue sky. Easily letting problems disappear... holding each other till sunset and imagining it would last forever.        

  ... And when they first met: She was so young, yet wisdom in common sense imbued her every act. Vitality and youthful invincibility fairly poured from her soul. It was easy to believe that anything was possible with Eve (her old forest name) high on the forest.

  "I loved her as the Goddess immanent - strong, confident, innocent yet wary. I was captivated. To me, the rest of the world held spellbound when we were alone and I looked into the well of youth that glimmered from deep in her dark eyes. We connected easily from the start - brother, sister, friend, could-be lover - it was the magic that surprised me most. I thought my search for a magical soul-mate was a lost cause, a fantasy. But there we were walking away from the sabotage strike, stealthy, naturally ... in tune with the land and the howling storm, the lashing rain ...

  We knew then how lucky we were to find each other. Two rebel souls with such passion for the magic of dark stormy nights, old forests, and companions in danger. Together without fear, we were good at our work. We drank deeply of each other's essence, doubting only how long the Fates would leave us... so comfortable.

  A wish ... it pushed up through his thoughts, "For us ... "

and then he stopped... letting it go. They had decided already... and he wondered

why those shadow thoughts kept trying to insinuate so forcibly.

  Skirting the sand dunes, they followed along the edge of the forest, until they got to the higher ground where they could get out to the cliffs. They could see far out into the gray-blue sea and down the coastline to where the lighthouse stood.

 Gulls circled and Hazel threw a pinecone out, seeing if they would go for it.

 

 "It's a beautiful October day. So, warm. I wonder when the rains will start

this year. The rains mellow people out. Gives you focus ... for awhile anyway," Hazel said, hoping Kith wanted to talk, here in this place they had always treasured … Green eyes seeking his blues...

 

  He just sat there staring out at the ocean. Then he started laughing and shaking his head, and laughing some more. She came over and knelt behind him, squeezing his shoulders where she knew he was always stiff.

 "You, gonna let me in, or is the joke on me ?" she asked, squeezing extra hard for a second. He looked back at her a little as he reached up to touch her hand .Pushing some stray hairs back behind his ear he said,

" Remember how funny we were a couple years ago, like always looking for trouble... and Aire getting new people all excited about direct actions, tree-sitting and all rearin to go, ready to do things they never would of considered. And pulling it off!"

 " Oh yeah, I stayed out of most of those actions. It's a wonder nobody..."

But Kith continued, " Well, I started thinking about that drunk logger who came into camp in the middle of the night with a half full bottle of whiskey and he started yelling

'Are you all Crazy, I mean are you crazy or what!' and Katia just standing there looking at him."

  Hazel grinned and started to laugh, saying, "Katia didn't know whether to call

for help or just watch him, when Aire and D-fly came up with a guitar and said:

' Howdy, know any songs ?'" Kith nodded enthusiastically and continued,

"And we played song after song: rap, country, Goddess chants. And the logger played some cool songs too, while we finished off his whiskey. The last thing he said was,

'you are all totally crazy, yep, but, you're all right.'

  We told him to join us and I think he did show up at some forest action last year."

Kith finished the tale and resumed his look-out, staring blankly into the distance of the gray-blue waters.    

  Hazel paused and came around to sit on a rock by his side.

"So, what made you think of that old story ?"

"Oh, just trying to think of funner times when we thought we could do anything ...

and it was all more of a game."

"Like, performance art and creating chaos here and there," Hazel added.

 

  He didn't seem too stressed out she thought, but she was determined to stay upbeat

or at least solutions-oriented. So, she held back from mentioning some of the hard times they had shared back in the day: cops and jails, and people getting beat up.

 

  "It was great," she said truthfully as memories of the two of them in love also tried to come out.. "But look at all we've done. We never really believed we'd get this far so quick." She breathed in the salty ocean air and enjoyed this moment in the sunshine. The day was waning and a few clouds gathered on the horizon.

 "So, come on, tell me what's up, buddy. "

  Kith smiled and squeezed her hand, knowing she was watching him

and reaching out. He sat there a while longer, listening to the silence and the waves

down below.

 

"Well I better tell you. There's good news and bad news. You already know about the music festivals. It's all set; they'll be at those spots that we picked out last Spring . And the watershed councils are totally rad. There's thousands of people camping responsibly - believe it or not - up on Elk River and at old Mrs. Walker's ranch. All over the place,. people planting trees and mending fences. Old people, from everywhere are joining in - restoration projects, helping new-comers. ... I swear, it sounds like we'll win the elections."

  Hazel butted in saying , "Just in time I'd say. Things might fall apart any day, down south you know. Go on, what about Defense and our plans ?"

"Hummmmn," Kith sighed. "Well, Brione and I tried to talk 'what ifs' and contingencies, we really did. But Namoia and Daniel drug on and on about caution and waiting. They're paranoid, still worried cause they don't trust us or figure us radicals will ruin the image. Shit, most people are as ready as us for... well, for something to happen. Oh, yeah, the Militia. They've pretty much taken over inland. I don't know if they cut a deal with the Feds or what, but there are thousands of refugees in Haymarket and maybe more in Redwing. So..." he hesitated, looking awkwardly at her.

 

"So... what ?" she demanded.

  

"Namoia proposed that a woman Forest Defender with ties to the Eco-Commandos be our representative to the Militia meeting,... someone peaceful, but strong willed..."

 

  Hazel gave him a stern look and said flatly: " Who is it ?"

He grimaced a little and leaned away saying softly, "You, Hazel..."

 "Who ! ?"

 "I agreed at the time..."

 "You what ? I told you I didn't want to do that !"

 "I know, I know. I'm sorry..."

 "Arggh," was all she said as she got up and pretended to karate chop his neck .

Right there - that spot that hurts him.. As she turned away, Kith said,

"It was late ... I didn't want to argue with them anymore... never again if I can help it.

Come on Hazel, you can go with someone else. Just don't worry so much."

  She tried to calm down, but her green eyes were still burning intense when she turned around and said with a sting, " Don't tell me what to do. Don't tell me not to worry,

and next time ...don't speak for me ... Damm it!"  

  And then letting her breathe out, "Oh, Kith I'm sorry. Let's not fight.

Why are we always like this ?"

  "It's my fault... I always..."

  "Shhh," she whispered and came closer, leaning against him like a board.

He waited a moment, rubbing his head into hers a little. He pulled her hair back away from her face and gave her a slight smile,

  " Hey. Cheer up. Brione got me a note saying we're still on for Blacks Meadow. Tomorrow.... no more phony meetings - just us Forest Defenders for awhile."

She nodded and tried to think positive. A shadow seemed to blur her thinking and she pondered his words : easy for him to say... 'Cheer up.' He's off to Denver with Miya, while I'm stuck here...

 

...Friends gathered in a circle... a face of wonder within the lights... an elf who looks familiar. Power in the Forest... coldness descending, enwrapping...

 

  Kith trembled, a shiver running down his back.

He opened his eyes wondering why Hazel was mad at Miya. "What did she do, who was that ?"         

  Hazel opened her eyes and quivered as she looked at him. Gulping a deep breath, she said, "Oh Gods... that's weird."

 "I felt something too," Kith added. The wind started to blow and their emotions spun wildly.

 "Hey, there's a dark thunder cloud out there."

     

 Lightning flickered briefly a few miles away. The wind blew hard through his hair and he remembered storms. Sneaking out his window to climb a tree or up on the roof. Wanting the lightning to come and it would. Or so it seemed to him and his young friends. Wind and rain howling and the three of them loving it. Talking about wishing up a better world or just messing things up for fun. Getting back at them ...

  And later, going camping for months with Aire and Tim. Making shelter in wild storms deep in the wilderness. Loving the wild powers of Nature. Being an animal, free for awhile. Encounters with steep canyons and ancient trees along the way. He felt Hazel holding his arm and a few raindrops blowing down.

  I ... lucky, I didn't get killed, he thought. But the excitement - the thrill - was there.

It kept him going even though he longed for all of them to just be together... on the farm they always wished for. Horses and all set for the winter.           

"Horses," he said out loud.

 

"Kith, let's go. It's late," she said, shaking his arm again.

 

 

Mixed shades of greens and muddy browns glistened in the light rain as they traveled back the trail and down the hill toward their bikes. Hazel was thinking about all these feelings and the image of Kith surrounded by cold, evil... shadows.

 

   She slowed her bike and waved goodnight as Kith rode on alone, down the hill toward Aire's cabin. A sensation passed suddenly and Hazel realized something else. It was time for her to say good-bye for a long while, to her little farm and this whole neighborhood of friends and supporters. Time to say farewell to the only home she had known the past four years... the only place she had ever felt secure.

   From here on out , it would be nothing but high security: safehouses, restricted communications, and lots... and lots of trust, faith, luck,  wishes...

 

   "Is everything falling apart or coming together? So much tension and Ego tearing at people, couples, groups. The desire to come together in these troubled times. I guess it takes the energy level up so high, we all end up haywired - looped."

  Searching for  joy, her thoughts went back to the Base Camp she had just visited. All the young people were so tight, and they knew Rei-Ki now too. Anarchist - Punk, riff-raff kids. Practically half of some camps were really serious youth under twenty- years-old, serious but definitely light-hearted ! She smiled at remembering the young girl admonishing an elder to put waste into the correct recycling bins. Respect, yes, but deference to age - not likely anymore.

   "Maybe I'm losing touch with them. I know how they feel inside: a generation or two of broken families, dissed by all the lazy Baby-Boomers they could never look- up to. Nobody to look- up to, only a dying landscape of endless Yuppie-dom and plastic culture, life and the End Times all speeding up at them. Now choosing their own culture, voting with their feet - since democracy in America is such a joke . 'Life is magic when you start to break free,' is their new motto. They consult the healers and they listen to new voices, hearing, clearly, the call of the Forest and Nature's simple ways." And she wondered if maybe, Brione's wish worked there too like her wishes now guided the Core Group of the Forest Defenders.

  "Well, youth aren't waiting for nobody ever again. They are the vitality that spurs on change. Society provided no outlet for kids to engage their creative intellects - their passion for action. They made it happen on their own. Boredom saved the day or the forests at least, so far. Not really so difficult for them, in a way, since youth had nothing to go back to. They just walked away, in disgust, as far away from the Old World and its pitiful claims of 'techno-glory' as they could get. They found the magic in each other and in just the simple things around them, living in Nature - no attachments - just living and sharing joy.

   The healers have joined them now ... and witches too ! They're all working together, to keep the peace, relieve stress, and who knows. Something's up, I know it. I'm sure it's got to be good. Probably everything will work out and come together nicely if we just let it happen. People are going to do what they want to do.

   That one Healer, the one with the powerful eyes and the freckles, she told me : 'The 'Three Fires' shall burn as One. Love guides rage into a pattern of Gaia Self-Defense. Patterns of defense connect to Earth's design. Gaia calls youth to come and transcend the mistakes of the past - to show us the way. The Healers come to follow the young. Healing and ancient ceremony bring strength to their cause.

  The meaning of the New Trinity reveals itself as alive, living here in the Forest Camps. Send us the refugees, and ...all your "lost birds." We will heal each other and learn a new way of sharing : Nature, Simplicity, and Letting Go.'"

 

   Hazel wondered why she wasn't more nervous and very concerned. Somehow, it felt right. Everything - the meeting, Kith, the plan. Of course, they were committed at this point. There aren't many choices once you know what you want . A strange moment of clarity passed and she knew: vibrations set patterns in motion. Ripples have  unknown effects.

 

And then she felt that quivery feeling again like she had felt at the beach cliffs with Kith. The freckled face of the healer flickered before her eyes and she had another vision: Happy, crowds at the Music Festivals,  waving their hands... Brione  waving  someone ... away ? And then it was gone, though she thought maybe the healers face changed at the last second and something was strange about her ears...

   "Visions or it wasn't exactly a vision, more like a feeling of something about to happen or.. I don't know but at least that one wasn't scary like the shadows around Kith." She had never had visions like these, but she had heard about many people experiencing them more frequently lately and weird dreams too. She used to think it was all mostly made-up or crazy. Things change and the truth is almost always ridiculed at first...like the plan.

  A year ago when they first discussed the secret plan, she thought they were all crazy, especially Dingo !. But now, it seemed everyone supported it. And the Ranger Defense!  Deterrence against attacks... maybe, or... provocation, violence, ambushes ... "One more month, Gods !  Can the Coalition hold that long ?"

  Well, Brione would be there, she thought. She's the strong one, hard-core to da bone. Hazel shook the raindrops off her hat. She thought about warm tea and Angela inside the house. Sleep...  trying , too hard, not to think about visions and journeys to come. She sucked on her upper lip, teething it slightly, as she often did.

  Hazel put her bike under the roof and was startled out of her drifting thoughts... a clear realization dawned in her that she needed to dream, needed to let it out. Her time had come,  a time when you know you can accept ... you rise to the occasion ... you cast doubts aside and trust to friends and wishes.                

  "Brione knows. She tried to tell me about wishes and how things were changing." Hazel pondered the nature of the changes that she was only vaguely aware of and then she relaxed and pictured Brione's face: beautiful, wide cheek-bones, and big brown eyes. Eyes that looked like they wanted to play with you, always twinkling, and mischievous, of a harmless, teasing sort. Such a tomboy in many ways - daring the guys ... lanky, wiry, sexy.

   Brione's hair was so short now ... no more colors  or streaks showing, just her old medium brown look. Part of her look. Still getting taller too. Gods ! Brione...

 

   She tapped lightly on the driftwood knocker before she opened the door to the cabin. A greeting to Angela passed unspoken when she saw her friend's finger pursed at her lips in a warning to be quiet. Angela's toddler lay across her mother's lap with its head back and mouth open. Angela's dark eyes rolled and Hazel could only guess at how long a time it had taken to get the child asleep, and still not quite in bed. Syanni or "Dulce Mulci" as Angela was fond of calling her one-year-old daughter, was always a handful. Her mom learned patience through the late-night wakings, the cries and worries. Now she needed all of her mothering skills to wean Syanni off the tit without wearing herself crazy.

   Angela was one of the strongest spirited persons Hazel had ever known, but she could see that haunted look that didn't need explanations between friends who were this close. Hazel knew that the counting-the-days and the imminent pain of separation must be hell on Angela. So, Syanni had to be weaned in a few days because her aunt, Abuelita Rosa Hererra would soon arrive to take the girl North to a safer place. Who knew how long it might be before things settled down again ?

   Hazel quietly passed the rocking chair to get a mug from the counter by the dripping sink. The herb was stored just to the right of the window where a multitude of small plants and a few cuttings competed for kitchen space that most people preferred to keep clear. Dirt crumbs and dead leaves... She looked over all the solid brown-tinted jars that kept the herbs fresh: Yerba Buena, Yerba Santa, Raspberry leaf... mullein. She settled on the new Chamomile batch that had just arrived from down river and their friends' farm near the coast. A bit of Willow Bark went along with the Chamomile into the tea-ball. The kettle simmered as usual on a cool Fall evening and Hazel found there was still plenty left for her tea with some left over. She considered the small blue bottle with the tincture of Absinthe and Mugwort, but finally decided that she wouldn't need any help dreaming this night.

   It seemed like an awful lot was still left to be decided, but she didn't really feel in turmoil about anything specific. Well, except that is for Kith's volunteering her to go visit the Militia leaders ...Or first! Off to try and reach these violent leaders of the mostly fundamentalist militia and then to quickly get them all to agree on a safe meeting place...

 

   Hazel pointed to her cup, offering to get some for Angela. But Angela shook her head, no as her gaze went back down to the baby. Syanni turned over slightly and the "little one" let out a small sigh as she fussed and nudged her head around in the instinctive search for milk and comfort. Angela rose smoothly and scooped the not-so-lightweight child up in her arms as she headed for the back bedroom.

   Alone and tired, Hazel sipped her tea without honey this time. And she wondered if she should be trying to talk Angela out of going on the next mission with the Eco-Commando unit from Canada, a professional but sometimes rowdy group who had been down south in Lorien for a series of expert training sessions. The three weeks of training were over and now they were getting ready to tackle a couple of hard-core power-plant attacks on their way back up to the Northlands.

 

   The hand-worn picture frame hung from the pine shelf boards. A photograph of the father. Ramon's large masked face beamed at you and made you smile back because you couldn't help but feel his warm open smile –even through a mask ! Another smaller black and white photo curled slightly where it stuck into the side of the larger frame. It showed a very young Ramonito waving his hat and smiling with his Sandinista comrades - out the back of a truck. The same truck from which a young Ramon would impossibly escape a fiery death only a few days after this picture had been taken. Tragically, the scene had repeated with many civilian and army trucks falling prey to the terror attacks of the counter-revolutionary Contras. With an easy disdain for National, International and World Court Laws the USA continued this highly illegal operation of intervention against one of the poorest countries in the world. A country that only had a few million adults in it. A country still suffering terribly from ten years of civil war, a century of exploitation of Los Pobres, major earthquakes and hurricanes yet to come.

 

   Hazel couldn't look at Ramon's picture and not be hopeful, but Ramon had been missing for two weeks and worse yet, Angela was about to jump in and take his place with the Canadian Commando unit. And she hardly even knew them or how to do the newest techniques for directed-charge settings and timers. Hazel almost bit down on her lip as she chewed on it and shook her head, perplexed. "Compassion seems crueler than doing nothing sometimes, I swear. I'm supposed to be developing my decision skills, but I spend most of my time learning when not to butt in... or at least how not to butt in on other groups." She admired Angela's drive and determination. She had talent and stamina too. Now her poor friend would have to fight to control her cold touch of revenge. Brione had said twice "Not to worry...Hazel.. absolutely OK." But Hazel guessed that the underlying feeling that bothered at her incessantly, was the unfairness. The endless unfairness of Ramon's disappearance. All the sacrifices that many of them were about to make. Angela having to risk it all again when so many others shirked away irresponsibly. It is often the few who will dare anything that push prophesy along and make the big difference.

 

  She poured more water in her mug and went over to the sink to fill the kettle with spring water from the tap. A few more sips of the weak tea and Hazel decided there was no way she could be compassionate to Angela and to herself at the same time. The whole thing was just too hard for her to be objective about. From her studies of the similarities between Witch Craft, ReiKi and Machiavelli she heeded well the maxim : "There can be no hidden subjective attachments when you do compassionate action or you risk creating an avoidable wrong." "There has to be a way forward in-between doing nothing and creating catastrophes. But I can't hardly even think of a d