This is a true story. I am writing my recollection of the events and although it has been many years, I still remember the details as if they happened yesterday.

I was lost. The snow laden conifers looked the same no matter which way looked. They surrounded me, smothering any hope of getting out of here before dark. My steps crunched on the snow which deceived me into thinking it could bear my weight. With each step my legs were buried into the snow up to my knee. I pushed my black hair out of my face and adjusted my hood. I kept moving forward, crunch after crunch. We called it post-holing- the act of stepping through deep snow and sinking in with every step.

My mind drifted. I thought of my cabin with a warm fire crackling and venison stew bubbling in the pot. I could almost smell the wood fire. I worried about my husband. We had been married for just a few months. Used to living on my own, I kept the duty of hunting and providing food for us and I was good at it, except for today. My husband, Eric, skilled in woodcraft, built our cozy cabin and made it tight to withstand the brutal winter. Each chair was carefully crafted. The head and foot boards of our snug bed bore ornate knot carvings. I thought of the piles of furs and blankets that kept us warm. The cold air on my face was a cruel reminder of my current situation.

I promised I would be back in just a few hours. It was well over six hours. My hunting trip was a failure with only a brace of rabbits to show for it and now I couldn’t find my way home. I adjusted my quiver and bow and steadied my mind. The moon should be rising soon, but, alas, it was in the time of the new moon. Darkness would persist. A small lantern hung from my pack. I lit the wick with a scrape of flint and steel. The firelight gave me new hope and a resolve to get home. But, with every brutal step, hope faded. Every step I took in the cracking snow was new. There was no trail, no markings, nothing to guide me. The trees surrounded me and trapped me in a branchy cage. I pulled my the hood of my fur cloak closer around my neck. The soft wool shirt and britches kept me warm enough. My feet were not cold. I kept soldiering on.

Hours passed by and I was still lost. I became exhausted. Every laborious breath was a puff of frozen mist in the bone chilling cold. My mind descended into darkness. I started to consider death, how easy it would be to just lay down in the soft snow and go to an eternal sleep. No! I would not succumb to my mind’s weakness. Pine branches offered a suitable shelter. Flint and steel offered a way to make fire and warmth. I set the small lantern in the snow and began to build my fire.

Small wood shavings and a single spark created a tiny fire…a glimmer of hope in the smothering darkness. The small spark gave way flames and finally a proper fire. Somehow the warmth and light of a fire gives hope to the hopeless. Survival is in the mind, more than it is in physical ability. I warmed my hands and face. I took one rabbit and was about to skin it for eating and suddenly, a snow laden branch gave way and snow plopped on my fire and all at once, it was dark and cold again. The fire was gone along with my hope. I was not one to give in to emotion, but warm tears welled up in my eyes. This was the end. I laid down in the snow. Images of my beloved husband floated before me. After a time, I was suddenly warm and sleepy. I let the relief of sleep wash over me. This was it. Death. The end.

“Wake up, child,” a soft voice woke me. I opened my eyes slowly. I was drowsy and did want to wake from my frozen sleep. Bright blue eyes stared at me from beneath bushy gray eyebrows. I rubbed my eyes. Was this real or was it delirium from hypothermia? The man’s woolen clothes were red and green. His hood enclosed his face in warm fur and his rosy cheeks were cheery and welcoming. I did not care if he was real or imaginary. I could feel his warm sweet breath on my face and I was overcome with a feeling of wellbeing. Maybe this is how it ends. I didn’t care and I surrendered. He extended a mittened hand and helped me up from my snowy bower.

“Follow me, girl,” he said. He commanded. He wielded a great wooden staff that gave him stability as he walked through the deep snow. The man led me through the forest maze to small cabin. The light shone from the windows welcoming the lost. Finally, the darkness of exhaustion was overwhelming. I don’t remember anything after that until I woke up tucked into a comfortable bed.

The firelight cast shadows around the room. I pulled the warm blankets up and snuggled into the soft bed. A lady crowned with golden braids and dressed in fine leather and furs sat beside the bed. “Drink this,” she offered me a mug of warm liquid. Carefully I raised the mug to take taste. The aroma of berries and herbs was inviting. I savored the wild flavor as I swallowed. My energy was returning and I sat up, pushing the blankets aside. I did not remember how I actually got to this cozy cabin. My last memory was handing the blue eyed man my pack. I could see the man bent over a cauldron hanging in the fireplace stirring it carefully. He turned and looked at me with those same kind blue eye. This time, I noticed a twinkle and a slight raise of his eye brow. The smell of whatever was in the cauldron was overwhelming. Stew of some kind. I was famished.

The couple bade me sit at the table and together we ate the stew, crusty bread and more of the berry drink. I did not speak. I was inhaling my dinner like someone who was starved. The couple looked at each other and smiled. After dinner, the man lit a pipe and pulled out a tagleharpa and bow. He played and sang melancholy tunes in a language I did not understand. The clear tones in a minor scale floated in air one after another as the bow glided across the strings. I realized that this music was very old, yet strangely familiar. My eyes became heavy and could feel myself drifting off in comfortable darkness. Was this death and the afterlife? I did not think so.

The woman looked me with her beautiful face. A light seemed to surround her, like an aura. “Please child, get some rest. You have had quite a day.”

I agreed and I crawled back in bed. I was instantly asleep.

The next morning, the wind howled outside the tiny cabin. I peered out the window and could not see anything but frozen white. I wanted to continue my trek home. I knew my husband, Eric, would be very concerned. My heart hurt with empathy for how he must feel. I gathered up my gear and started to put on my boots and the lady stopped me.

“You must not leave,” she said, “the storm is too strong and you will not find your way.”

I knew she was right, but I didn’t like it. However, I resolved to wait out the storm with these interesting, yet mysterious. Now that I was rested, I began to notice my surroundings. Little pottery jars neatly lined shelves beside the fire place and dried herbs hung from the ceiling rafters. Furs were stretched on frames for tanning and some were neatly folded and stacked. The intricately carved wooden table and chairs were adorned with candles that cast a warm light across the room. The smell of sweet herbs and leather permeated the air.

A heavy wooden door kept the storm out and a string of bells cascaded from the handle. I started to wonder about my hosts. How did the man find me just at the right moment and who was his beautiful wife. They never called each other by name. In fact, they really didn’t speak much at all. Even so, it was not awkward and felt welcome and comfortable.

One night, as we sat by the fire. I saw the man carving small piece of wood. “Did you make all these beautiful things?” I asked.

“The winter is long here, and I pass the time by making this and that. It amuses me.”

He handed me detailed carving of a raven. “Take this, he said “I made it for you.”

I was amazed at the craftsmanship of the tiny bird. Each feather was detailed and the raven’s eyes seemed to look at me. I thanked him and tucked it into my pocket.

Eight days went by and the wind howled relentlessly as the blizzard continued to rage on. The days passed with simplicity. Breakfast and coffee, spinning and weaving in the morning. Working the leather on the stretched hides in the afternoon, supper and then music. Every day was the same but went by quickly. On the ninth day, the wind stopped. I was not prepared for the sudden silence. I was anxious to get started home and I started collecting my gear to ready to leave.

“No child you can’t leave yet, the snow is too deep,” said the lady. Her eyes sparkled like the snowflakes on the new drifts. “Stay with us a while longer. I promise we will help you find your way home.”

“My husband surely thinks I am dead by now,” I replied. “I need to go home.”

“Please stay,” she implored, holding my hand and staring into my eyes. “it is not safe for you to leave just yet.” Just then, I heard a scratching at the door. The woman rose and opened the door with jingly bells to reveal a very large black wolf. She gently patted his head. He shook the snow off his dense fur and entered the room. He looked at me with large yellow eyes and laid down by the fire. “There you are my boy,” the woman said to the wolf. “I was wondering where you were.” She bent over his huge head and kissed him.

I wanted to leave, but I could not refuse her. I felt like I was under a spell. Perhaps I was. Days continued in the same way. I lost track of time. I was content and started to forget about the world outside. But deep inside I was aware that something was not right, not in nefarious way. I can only describe it as other worldly. Deep in my consciousness, I knew these people were not human. I realized I could stay in this place until I was old and gray and be perfectly happy. I needed to get out, while I still remembered my life and Eric. Once I resolved to leave, my mind started to clear and I began to formulate a plan. On the full moon, 2 days from today, I would leave while everyone was asleep.

The full moon arrived as always. We drank, ate, and sang until it was time for bed. I crawled into my bed to wait. It was hard to resist the comfort and drowsiness that tried to take over. When I was sure everyone was asleep, I grabbed my bundled gear and slowly exited the house. Quickly, I donned my coat and boots, slung my pack and bow over my shoulder and hurried as quickly as I could through the snow. The moonlight reflected off the sparkly snow, guiding me forward. I could see my breath in the air surround by tiny snow flakes. I pulled my hood closer to my face. It seemed like hours and I was still walking. I sat down to rest. Just a little rest. My eyes closed. Suddenly I felt a wet tongue licking my hand. The great wolf had been following me. He laid down next where I was sitting and waited for me. “Come on, then,” I said to the wolf. I stood up and adjusted my load. The wolf walked ahead, looking back ever so often to see if I was following. His great, black, furry body was a stark contrast to the white snow.

For reasons I can’t describe, I followed that wolf, convinced he knew where I needed to go. We walked and walked. We trekked up side of a steep hill, which became a mountain. The trail became the ridge line, and still we continued with the wolf in the lead. Where were we going? The tiny path became less evident. Suddenly, I lost my footing and started to slide down the mountain side. I grasped a small tree and held on tightly. The ground beneath me was very far away. I looked up and the wolf sat, staring at me with wise yellow eyes. The small tree did not hold and the branch I was hanging on to broke. I slid down the side of the mountain and over the cliff into oblivion.

Everything was black, but I heard a familiar voice off in the distance. “Dani, Dani, my love! Wake up!” My eyes fluttered open.

“Eric!” I held him close. “You found me! I fell off mountain. How did you find me.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, looking at me like I was crazy. “You have only been gone a couple of hours. I came outside to get some wood and you were laying in the snow.”

I was confused. My pack and my bow were shouldered as usual and 2 rabbits hung from my pack.

“Come inside and get warm, Dani” Eric helped me up and ushered me inside.

“Eric, I have been gone for over 10 days,” I explained.

“Darling, no, it’s just been a hour or two, he countered, pouring hot coffee for me. The black liquid and smell of the coffee was restoring.

I pushed back the hood of my coat and unhooked the wooden toggles.

“Dani! Your hair!,” exclaimed Eric.

Startled by the urgency in his voice, I found my bronze mirror and peered into it. I gasped. My once black hair, was now white as the snow outside.

“Eric, sit down and let me explain, “ I reached into my pocked and put the tiny raven on the table. I told him the whole unbelievable story. For years we looked for the cabin deep in the forest and never found it. My hair never returned to its original color.

Every now and again, I hear stories from travelers and sometimes my neighbors about the hidden people, the old ones, who remain with us but were very rarely seen.

I am an old woman now. Eric passed on several years ago. I wanted to see the hidden people one more time. I braided up my white hair and donned my gear, pack and bow. My quiver had sufficient arrows. It was winter again. I headed into the snow.

The moon was full. I knew this because I payed attention to the phases. But one would never know it. The road was dark with only my headlights to illuminate the path. Rain gushed over my windshield and my wipers were whipping back and forth at a furious pace. The wind blew viscously slamming branches and leaves on my windshield. I could barely see the flashing yellow lights- road closed. I sighed. The detour was marked with an orange sign. I turned off on to the alternate road. This was not my usual route, but whatever, I needed to keep going. I drove on, leaning in and peering out the front window.

Finally, the rain stopped. The wind blowing through the trees sent big drops down, but my wipers could keep up. In place of the rain, a dense fog developed which stretched from the road upward. I was trapped in the white swirly clouds that enveloped the road and everything around it. The beam of my headlights bounced back making it difficult to see. I switched on the fog lamps. That helped. I opened the car door so I could see the edge of the road. Swampy, boggy pools and puddles lay on both sides of the road. Driving into them meant certain death. Nobody ever drove down this road. But, here I was in my little red BMW, a steadfast vehicle. I watched the white painted stripe and kept the car wheel aligned with it. On and on I drove. The dense fog made me dizzy.

The wind finally stopped and all was still. Suddenly an eerie howl pierced the silence. My skin prickled and the hair on my neck stood up. What in the hell was that. I thought. I stopped the car and looked around. There was nothing and even if there was something, I couldn’t see it. I shut the car door. I’ll take my chances staying on the road. I continued on and the fog began to lift. Only swirls on the road remained. I breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, I could see where I was going.

It would be hours before I got to my grandmother’s house. I never understood why she lived way out in the middle of a Louisiana swamp. But, she asked for some things from town; fresh bread, milk, butter, and a warm blanket that I crocheted for her. This was a ritual for me. Every month I made this journey, but never this late in the evening. It must have been close to midnight. That said, I loved Grandmother dearly and I would brave any eerie bog to visit with her.

Suddenly, huge wolf appeared in the road in front of me. I slammed on the brakes and screeched to a stop just shorting of hitting it. The wolf’s huge yellow eyes stared at me. He was was handsome fellow, but the sharp teeth dripping with saliva were not friendly. For a long moment we stared at each other. The wolf daring me to exit the car. But, I was not stupid. I sped around him. I looked in my rear view mirror and he was gone. Perhaps I scared him back into the swamp.

I turned onto the gravel road the led to my grandmother’s house. She lived in a humble wooden cottage by herself and had lived in that place ever

since I was born and probably long before that. Grandmother kept busy collecting herbs and various plants and making potions and salves. She would give me a basket full of them to take back to town and sell for her. It was a modest income, but enough. She didn’t need much.

I could see the lights from her windows just up ahead. But, as I was approaching the driveway, she came bursting out of the house in nothing but her nightgown. Her long silver hair was messy and she had no shoes on her feet. She ran toward the car waving her hands. “Let me in!” She yelled. I unlocked the door and she jumped into the passenger seat. “There was a great black wolf at my back door,” she said breathlessly. “It came right into the house.”

“Let’s get out of here,” I said and quickly turned around and sped down the gravel road. “Are you ok Grandmother?” I asked. She didn’t look good at all. Her skin was saggy and eyes sunken in.

“I’m just fine, little girl,” she replied in strange voice.

I turned my head to look and it was not Grandmother. It was the wolf! His great yellow eyes and slavering snout were so close that I smell his carnivorous breath. I stopped the car. Terrified, I reached under my seat grabbled my Glock 9 mm. Thankfully it was loaded. I shot that wolf- each bullet buried it his thick skull. He was dead. All of a sudden, I became aware that he was still moving with protrusions coming out of is large stomach. I watched in horror as arm poked through the wolf’s flesh. Then another arm. Finally a head, a familiar head. “Grandmother!” I cried. She emerged bloody and covered in gastric contents.

Grandmother was alive and as feisty as ever. “That damn wolf,” she said. “He’s been after me for years. Luckily I had my wolfsbane potion and this sliver talisman!” She laughed as she opened the door and unceremoniously kicked the wolf’s carcass out of the car. “Let’s go home,” she said. “I need a bath!”

I was not ready to laugh about this situation. I took a shaky breath and turned the car back to Grandmother’s house.

Ashes blew across a barren landscape. Burned out trees stood like stark, black pillars. I walked the dusty path alone and confused. It smelled acrid like an abandoned fireplace. Just a moment ago I was sitting on a green lawn watching the dog walkers and children pass by. The sound of birds and laughing filled the air. Now all was colorless silence. Step after step I continued walking. It was cold. I pulled my hoodie tighter around my body and stuffed my gray hair into the hood as a cinched it tight. The cold was bone chilling and nothing I did warmed me.

Shadows formed at the edges of the black trees. They swayed with the cold wind. I thought I could hear faint singing, but maybe it was just the wind. I kept the shadows in my peripheral vision. They moved closer and closer. I had no emotion. No fear, no anxiety. Nothing. I should be scared, shouldn’t I? The shadows gathered behind me and kept my pace. Musical humming filled my ears. I kept walking and I did not tire.

Gradually, the bland horizon started to lighten. Dark gray gave way to light gray and then to a pale golden light. I was curious and quickened my step. Perhaps I could solve the mystery of where I was. The shadows continued behind me. Walking and walking. I made no progress toward the shining horizon. How long have I been here? Time was not relevant.

My mind drifted. I thought of the man I married and who loved me and how I carelessly threw the love away for a torrid affair. I was not sorry then. He meant nothing me. Now, I could not stop thinking about it. My selfishness. My arrogance and my utter lack of consideration for him. I thought about my sister. How we had not spoken in 10 years. I thought about my father, a cruel man, and how I never defended my mother when he demeaned her in public. Thoughts of all my transgressions flooded my mind. I felt shame and longed for one chance to fix it all. Just one.

Suddenly, the bright horizon was before me. The shadows lost their blackness and transformed into people, bathed in golden light. I could not make out their features. The light blinded me. I walked among them and felt warmth. The cold and ashy land was gone. My eyes were closed. I did not need to see.

As suddenly as it appeared, the golden light was gone. Voices called my name. My eyes snapped open.