Hello Regina!  I've been lucky enough to receive you as my Soul Sisters Secret Sister for the month of October.  Halloween is one of my favorite holidays and I'm hoping it is for you too. *S*  My gifts to you during the month will be primarily Halloween graphics, stories and poems.  I hope you enjoy them.  *grin*  The original story below was written by a friend of mine.

Nobody had ever met the spirits of the woodland. Every Halloween, the townsfolk could hear them sing, deep in the swampy heart of the forest, somewhere behind the eerie glowing mists...but their true faces remained a mystery. I was determined to discover the truth. Lindy, Tad and Abby had all agreed to join me on this strange quest for the secret of the Halloween voices. Slowly, we crept our way through the dark, moonlit trees, which glowered down at us with scowls of twisted bark. It was incredibly creepy, each footstep shattering the silence with the snap of twigs or the flutter of startled wing beats. "Maybe there's nothing here but owls," shuddered Abby. "Maybe we should just go back." "Scardey!" taunted Tad. "Scared of a few little birds?" "Not the birds," replied Abby. "It's the TREES that freak me out!" And at that moment, one of the twisted branches swooped down and knocked Abby off her feet. Before the rest of us could react, she was running back towards the town, her torch beam waving wildly through the branches as her screams faded into the distance. "Shame," whispered a deep voice from somewhere above us. "What a shame she should be so scared. Did she never have the joy of climbing a tree?" Lindy shone her torch up at the tree which had spoken. "Look!" she cried. "A bridge of branches!" Eagerly, we ducked and swung and clambered our way across the tangled bridge of branches, which took us high into the cool, moonlit air. "Look out!" screamed Tad, his courage deserting him as thick fingers of mist swooped down around us. A few more screams, and he too was gone. "Shhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaammmmmme," hissed the mist, "that he never knew the joy of dancing with the clouds." So, as the mist swirled around us, myself and Lindy danced our way across the bridge, twisting and twirling in the shifting colours of the sunset, bopping with the breezy billow. Then, suddenly, the bridge of branches collapsed beneath our feet. We dropped through the misty air and splattered unceremoniously into a thick carpet of spongy moss. "Eeeew!" screeched Lindy. "I'm soaked!" Shaking herself dry, she stomped back towards town, muttering to herself. "Shame," sighed the moss, its mottled colours glinting in the moonlight. "What a fuss to make over getting a little wet!" As I bounced my way across the moss like an acrobat on a moonlit trampoline, I could see a light somewhere in front of me. Then, as I got closer, I could hear the singing - high and bright, like restless Angels on the midnight breeze. Finally, as the little revelers began to swarm around me, I could see the source of the light: a faery campfire. I had found the secret voices of the woods, by following the dancing path which led to their song.

Copyright  2002 by John E. Hulme

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