Before me lay a thick, impenetrable forest stretching as far as the eye could see. It was dark and foreboding and I shivered with apprehension. In the distance, a firefly darted towards me through the trees and, as the pinprick of light grew closer, it hovered at the edge of the woodland… beckoning. I knew I had no choice but to enter, and though fearful of the unknown I took a tentative step. Pushing aside the undergrowth, I followed the beacon of light and drifted through the foliage like a spirit, twisting and turning through the trees. As I glanced up at the dense canopy that inhibited any natural light, I found my body rising through the branches, without control over speed, until high above the forest I gazed down upon a wild, rugged landscape shrouded in darkness.
On the wind I detected a scent of the ocean. Raising my eyes to the heavens, I watched dark cirrus clouds scudding across the night sky to reveal a wash of twinkling stars and planets. A halo of light surrounded the moon, its inner edge tinged red; the outer an altogether bluer hue. Gazing earthwards again, I noticed the thick tree canopy stretched for miles – like a spill of ink across the landscape – and all at once I was descending. As I plunged through the roof of the forest I closed my eyes, bracing myself against the scratch and claw of twig and branch. But, unscathed, I floated gracefully to the forest floor.
The firefly had waited for me. Resuming my journey, I followed its beacon of light through the trees until we came upon a clearing. Ten brightly coloured gypsy caravans encircled a campfire around which sat a group of people warming themselves from the flames. An assortment of scrawny, raggedy dogs wandered the encampment or slumbered beneath the steps of the caravans, and somewhere close by I heard the comforting sound of horses grazing.
As I hesitated at the edge of the clearing, a sudden burst of laughter drew my attention to a small group of men sitting on the far side of the fire. A man plucked at the strings of a guitar and started to sing; his baritone voice pleasingly deep and smooth. Another cajoled a mandolin into life, while a third accompanied on an accordion. As the song gathered pace, increasing in intensity and tone, a young lad tucked a fiddle under his chin and enthusiastically joined in.
A number of children chased each other around the campfire until someone shouted and briefly halted their game, and swarthy, black-haired men danced with sultry, dark-eyed women – a twist of limbs and swirling colour, as their bodies responded ever more urgently to the primal beat.
Suddenly there was a roaring sound in my head, and as I became aware of the rush of blood pumping through my veins, I realised I wasn’t a wraithlike apparition or some whimsical spirit, but that I, too, responded to that beat. For the first time in many years I felt alive.
And then, through the flickering firelight, I saw you sitting on a log on the far side of the camp, deep in conversation with the man beside you. No one had noticed me and, moving closer, I took the opportunity to gaze at your face in wonder. You were not like the others; you shared none of their darkness. Prone to curls, your dark blond hair framed a genuine, open face that was teasingly familiar, and yet not. As your lips formed silent words I studied you: the slant of your brow; the sharp angle of your cheekbones; the shape of your nose; the tight line of your jaw. And I noticed the way your eyes crinkled when you laughed. Suddenly you smiled and I gasped, as intense, stirring sensations took hold deep in my belly.
From out of the corner of my eye I saw a man approaching. He requested a dance but, impatiently, I brushed him away, and when I turned back you were looking directly at me. Your gaze asked a question, and for a heartbeat I stopped breathing. I no longer had the ability to drift and cautiously, as if in experiment, I placed one foot in front of the other and stepped uncertainly towards the fire. But the heat was too fierce and I glanced at you in confusion. Had I misunderstood?
In a voice soft and tender, you encouraged me. ‘You can do it. Follow the path.’