There was once a dark and evil forest where even the sunbeams feared to go too deep or touch to long. Nothing grew in summer or winter. No leaves or flowers grew in that forever winter wood. The only colour at all was the deadly green of deadly nightshade and the blood red of poison toadstools.
There sinister trees that weave and wave with wind. They seem to breath and wheeze and watch you and reach out with sharp wooden claws ready to rend and clutch and catch you. Just a few steps into that fierce woodland and the trees seem to lean with anticipation....
Pathways chocked with poison ivy twist and turn like a snake though the trees. You travel softly with your heart in your mouth, and your soul in your hands, and shaking from toe to finger. Walk with dreadful care on a carpet of leaves and rot as the oaks stare, brutal growls and ominous moans drift from the deep of the forest.
Following the twisted veins of leaf and decay to the heart of it all there you come to some steps. The steps lead up to the corrupted heart of the forest where there is a glade so quiet that even the dead ghosts fear to whisper or moan. Even the leaves on the ground never move out of fear... And there in the centre is...
... The house of a witch. She has a heart so black that the shadows flee from it and the night dances around it for fear of being sucked in. She is so wicked that Hell threw her out of it's bone built gates and onto the stones of damned that scream for ever more and told her never to return. Her eyes gleam with such evil and malice that milk sours at her glance, babies die, and the sunshine turns to rain.
Of course, this is just a tale. The wood is not so dark or deep. There is no witch house at the heart. Just go see... if you dare. It's just a tale. Isn't it? Isn't it?
THE END.
Something different for today :-) I hope you enjoyed that. I went out to the forest today to try to capture a sunset there. It was not really that sucsessful but as I was sitting on a bench I noticed a house that I thought looked really dark and dreary and in my imagination could be just the kind of place a witch might live. That's when I got the insperation to take the pictures in sepia and lead you through the wood in text and photographs to the house and tell the story of the witch. I hope you enjoyed both the photographs and the text and your journey through the wild and twisted wood! Well, now you feel better to know that it is not the house of an evil witch... well... maybe...... just....
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