The Forest Of Ha'ale

[Gaelic]

The road I see is long, twisting in and about a deserted country-side. Around me, where I stand, are tall willow trees, their branches weeping over me as I hike through their grip. The ground is covered in a low layer of ash, just enough for me to stir it up as I walk. The path isn’t apparent right away; I have to sweep my foot around to find it. As the ash flies upward to my knees, it coats my pants, leaving dusty stains as I walk. The path itself is the kind of path that sometimes you wonder if it ever really was a path, or if it’s the kind of path you fail to notice isn’t really a path, but a notion of your imagination.
As I’m walking, I can see two roads ahead of me. They emerge from the ash, but they are not where my path is taking me. They are well worn, both of them, equally paved and trodden, and I even see familiar footprints. However, the path I travel, I walk alone. The path is a kind of ghost, flitting sometimes out of my sight, leaving me to stand motionless in the ash as it slowly piles higher, until it comes to my knees. Then I walk again, breaking through, ash sloshing over into my boots. It filters through my hands, powdery and soft.
The sky above is dark, as if endless Midnight has stretched her cooling fingers over it. It isn’t too cold, or too hot, but the middle temperature isn’t quite comfortable either. The willows sway in the wind, bending over very slowly, and then sweeping their long arms as though scooping the ash off the path in a moment of pity. They leave spirals in the ash, and it reveals that ghost path. I hear travelers from afar, but they are on another path, in some other time, far away from my endless midnight and thick ash. My lungs grew heavier, slowly, but then I feel reprieve as the wind hits my face, and I suck beautiful, sweet air into my lungs.
I’m not sure why I’m walking on this path, or how long it is. What decisions did I make? Was I always in this ash? Somehow everything feels like an old friend, and overhead the ash spotting the sky, falling slowly, seems like endless stars against the black canvas. It is quiet, and I feel alone. However, it is a peaceful feeling, as though the entire world holds its breath, and I pause. Ash slowly piles higher, but I move my leg, uncovering more of my ‘ghost path’. The farther I go, the more I wonder if I am not lost, or if in the end, I will find a well-traveled path, and maybe meet travelers of like mind. For now I walk farther into the darkness, the ash reflecting light even though there is none to be seen, and I feel alone.

And then sunlight floods back to my vision, and I awake.

What a strange dream, of such a strange place.

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