Ritual Giving Thanks to the Spirits of the Woods

We drove down County Road X through the woods of Alabama.  The county had never bothered to pave anywhere this remote so the journey was rough and the rocks cracked under the tires as we headed along the shaded path.  Reaching the crest of a hill we followed a fork in the road to reach our lodge.  The path stopped before a set of large black gates.  The top of the gate was detailed in the shape of a deer head fitted with large red glass eyes and reminded me of something you might see at Malfoy manor.  It was strange to think that just hours before I had been moving through the city of Chicago, rushing past hundreds of people going about their business.  And now, here I was in the middle of nowhere in a state most Chicagoans look on with fear and disdain.  And to be fair, some of the stereotypes were true.  As we moved through the gate and into the large cabin we would be staying, we found countless indication that this was a place for hunters and that we, us city folk, were clearly out of place.

While I was there to visit some distant relatives, I made sure to find time to escape and venture on my own through the many acres of woods that made up the property.   For someone used to the incessant racket of city noise, the absence of it was unsettling at first.  Though the ability to be completely surrounded by nature was refreshing and much needed.  At home in the city I often can only look at the moon through a window, or perhaps in a city park.  It is rare that I get to experience nature alone.  But here, in the woods of Alabama it seemed that everything was different.  

As the sun set I made my way to a small pond deep in a valley.  The trees down by the river were magnificent, and the riotous colors shone bright through the waters reflection.  As I walked towards the water's edge it became clear that this was a place not owned by people, but by the animals and spirits of the woods.

An October song of leaves scattered about my boots as I snaked between the trees.  The trees swayed as the wind whipped through the leaves, the cracking branches forming an uncanny rhythm.  As the sky began to darken I turned on my Coleman lantern and that was when the sensation of being truly alone at night in an unfamiliar place hit me.  The fear began to settle in as my hair twirled and whipped in the wind, framing my face.  My eyes were wide and stared intently as I looked ahead into the darkness.  My heart beat fast beneath my skin.  My ears were sensitive to every crunch of leaf and snap of twig.  While the breeze was warm, I felt like a bag of bones, chattering against the wind.   I found a small clearing where I could sit and I stayed there among the trees for several minutes till my heart began to calm down enough where I could begin to sense the energy of the woods.

As I shut my eyes and surrendered to the darkness, I could feel what I’ve been missing.  In the city I work with the frenetic energy and magic of the hive.  The great swarm of people, industry, and memory.  This, however, was a deeper, darker, and more profound energy.  And just as a horse can sense your nervous inexperience, the guardians of the woods could tell that I was out of place and out of practice.  To tell the truth I felt guilty.  Why was I feeling fear?  Shouldn’t all witches feel comfort in the darkness of the woods?  I couldn't remember the last time I entered the woods alone.  How could I claim to be a witch without regularly working with this dark energy of the wild?   

After a few minutes of meditative silence I preformed a simple ritual thanking the God and Goddess and then headed back up to the main trail.  

This experience was somehow much more personal and deep than other experiences I’ve had with nature in the city.  When I go to various parks in the city the knowledge that civilization nearby is comforting, but it is also limiting.  Maybe the fear I felt in the woods was a necessary part of reaching through the veil and building a relationship with the other world.

I understand that not everyone can live in the countryside.  Though this trip was short it gave me an aching to make more effort to go to the wild places.  The places untamed by people.  It was bittersweet to leave the woods and return to Chicago.  Though, I will maintain the memory of the wild energy I felt in those Alabama woods and I will work tirelessly to find ways to reconnect with it again. 

Simple Ritual to Thank to Spirits of the Woods

Inspired from a ritual in Living Wicca by Scott Cunningham

As you walk alone towards a body of water collect autumn leaves that have fallen to the ground.  Upon reaching the water’s edge find a seat and cast a circle if you would like.  As you float the leaves one by one upon the water visualize your reason for the ritual.  Remember why you are thanking the God and Goddess.  As the leaves float away say the following words:

Lady of the moon, of the stars, and the earth;
Lord of the sun, of the forests, and the wild;
I perform a ritual of thanks.
My love shines like the flame of a candle;
And floats like the leaves of autumn.

Lady of the waters, of flowers, and the sea;
Lord of the air, of horns, and of fire;
I perform a ritual of thanks.
My love shines like the flame of a candle;
And floats like the leaves of autumn.

Lady of the caves, of cats, and snakes;
Lord of the plains, of falcons, and stags;
I perform a ritual of thanks.
My love shines like the flame of a candle;
And floats like the leaves of autumn.

Do you have a ritual you like to perform alone in the woods?  Let me know in the comments below.