Amelia looked over the results of her work. The cottage was clean and tidy, if still rather sparsely furnished. The wild grass in the yard was uniformly cut, paving stones laying out the path to the woods. All the shrubs and saplings that had sprung up in the yard were doing well in their new spots on the edges of the wood. All the tools in the shed were freshly cleaned and oiled.
Not too bad for a start!
She had even found a well as she was planting one of the larger saplings, just on the edge of the yard. It was covered in moss and brambles, but the wood lid that covered the well was mostly in good shape. She’d probably need to replace the rope and repair the wooden bucket for drawing water, but they’d do for now. That was a source of water sorted, hurray!
With that thought, she decided that today was the day to do some exploration. In addition to finding the creek, she needed to see what state the rest of the woodland was in. She wasn’t just the caretaker of the cottage, after all.
Thinking ahead, she grabbed her backpack and hoodie from the back of the door, packed some snacks (crisps and sweets, of course!), then headed back to the shed. Considering the state the yard and cottage had been in, there would be some clearing to do.
The little bill hook was the obvious choice for this expedition since it could cut weeds and small branches easily. It could even be used to dig, in a pinch. She considered the rake and shovel, but those would be kind of heavy and awkward to take very far without a good reason. Instead, she packed a trowel and a small garden fork, both wrapped in rags so they wouldn’t poke through the backpack.
Tossing in a roll of twine (always useful!) and she was ready to go. No need to get too loaded down for a first walk around.
Closing the shed door securely, she headed back into the yard and looked at the trees and dense undergrowth that surrounded the area. Other than the path back to the front gate, there was no other obvious easy exit out of the yard. The tall trees and bushes obscured sight beyond a foot or two, so she couldn’t just pick a landmark and head for it.
With some thought, she looked at the place where she had dumped her wash water earlier. It was subtle, but if you looked close, you could see which way the water had traveled before finally being sucked into the grass. Downhill was as good a direction as any.
With a course set, Amelia headed to that side of the yard and started hacking away at the creepers, vines, and bushes that blocked her path. The bill was nice and sharp and made short work of the obstructive vegetation.
Whisper bobbed along after Amelia, hovering close to her shoulders most of the time, but occasionally darting ahead to check out a particularly interesting tree branch or fallen acorn or other fascinating objects you find in a forest.
Once Amelia got into a rhythm with the hook, she started whistling, occasionally accenting her music with the thunk of the bill or a stomp of her foot. She didn’t have a tune in mind, just whatever sounded good as she went. She didn’t even notice that a few birds had come to watch her work until she heard them warbling along with her song.
Amelia had no idea what kind of birds they were - Gran had been great at identifying birds, plants, animals, and so on, but the names rarely stuck in Amelia’s head. So she just thought of the larger blueish-grey one as Blue and the creamy-tan one as Beige. Not that the birds seemed to mind the names as she waved to them. They flitted from tree branch to tree branch as she whacked a path mostly downhill, singing along with her.
The creek, once she found it, was a bit of a surprise, engrossed as she was with the trailblazing and music production. The ground suddenly sloped steeply downwards, then the bank dropped several feet to the creek, almost like a cliff. The waterway was choked with reeds and leaves, making the area almost level with the banks above. If it wasn’t for the roots of an ancient, gnarled old oak tree twisting over the bank and down to the water, she might have tumbled straight in.
She used one of the roots as a bench as she took a short break, looking down at the waterway below. It was more of a narrow marsh than a creek, as choked in and overgrown as it was.
“Salutations, little one” groaned a deep, slow speaking voice. It seemed to come from right behind her.
Amelia turned around and saw the speaker - it was the oak tree! She wouldn’t have believed it, but it kept talking, its mouth a large deep knothole, its eyes two smaller knots, and a little nub of a branch for the nose.
“Welcome to my home. I am Alder, a guardian of this forest. The little spirit you call Whisper has told me much of you and your work, and I am glad you have come to live with us”.
The oak’s voice was gravely and creaky, like wood cracking and straining in a high wind. But it spoke extremely slowly, and by the time it had stopped speaking, Amelia’s heart had slowed down from the sudden surprise.
“Uh, thanks? I’m happy to meet you. As for the work, it's actually my job. My Gran asked me to be the caretaker here.” she said. What exactly do you say to a tree that welcomes you to the neighborhood?
“Of course. But not all the caretakers before you have done their job. I know your Gran tries her best, but it was so much better when she took care of things here herself. But that was a long time ago, indeed”.
Amelia was rather surprised at that statement. She knew Gran had done all kinds of things in her long life, and certainly knew how to garden and such — she had taught Amelia in her home garden, after all.
“I didn’t know Gran was ever the caretaker here! She never mentioned it.”
“Oh no, little one” the tree responded, groans and creeks that must be laughter emitting from its knothole mouth. “She wasn’t the caretaker, but the Wise Woman of these woods. The caretakers are for when the Wise Woman isn’t in residence herself. Why, she even raised that little cottage from an egg. She brought it here when I was but a sapling. Although she has been gone so long, I believe it has forgotten itself and shrunk from its former glory. It was once a magnificent structure, back when I was young and slender.”
Amelia had plenty of time to process the words as the old oak spoke at its glacial pace.
“I’m sorry, but this is all new to me. What is a Wise Woman? And how do you grow a building from an egg?” she asked politely.
“No trouble at all! This is part of my job as guardian to educate newcomers to this wood!”, it said. “The Wise Woman, or Wise Man, or Wise Person, as the case may be, is the one charged with the care and secrets of a special place. There are other places besides this one, of course. The Wise one learns the ins and outs of it, tends it, protects it, helps it, and guides it. They learn all sorts of things from the place or places they work with. They are responsible for steering it in the direction it should grow and pruning the parts that do not. And keeping an eye on any troublemakers.” This last was said as one of its knot-eyes turned to ogle Whisper, who had settled on a nearby root, along with Blue and Beige. "Like your friend the wisp, and those two ... wood spirits."
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Amelia looked at the birds and the little green glowing puffball.
“Is that what Whisper is? A wisp? And are Blue and Beige wood spirits? Or have I got that backwards?”.
“Whisper is indeed a wisp and a quite nice one at that. But keep an eye out — all her kind are pranksters at heart, and they love to trick and pester mortals.”.
“Hmm, well, she better keep it nice if she wants any more chocolate!” said Amelia.
“Ho hum ho!” laughed the oak. “Yes indeed, sweet things are a great way to the heart of a wisp. I’m sure she’ll mind her manners — as long as you keep feeding her!”.
“And did you say these birds are wood spirits? What exactly are those?” she asked.
“Spirits of the woods would be a better way to describe them. Some of the spirits take the form of woodland creatures and live among them. Some, like myself, were normal things that became more for one reason or another. And some are beings that have sought refuge here, away from mortal eyes and lands. As to what we all are, we simply are. Immortal creatures that do as they will, for reasons of their own. Guardians and caretakers and refugees. More than that would take far too long to explain. As it would to explain what a girl is, or an oak is. These aren’t simple things, you know”.
Amelia nodded. She would just have to accept them as they were.
A thought did occur to her, though.
“Well, as guardian, do you know of anything in particular that needs taken care of? I’ve cleaned up the house and yard and fixed the front gate, but I’m not really sure what needs to be done next.”
The old oak swayed a little, giving the impression of a nod, pleased at the question.
“Of course! Many things need doing, young caretaker! Your predecessors have left quite the mess, and disorder and decay always grow with time. But a little hard work and dedication will soon have it seen to rights, though the job never really ends.”
The oak seemed to consider for a moment, before continuing.
“This, hmm, might be a little self-serving, but if you could clear some of the reeds and muck from the creek here at my roots, I’d dearly love to see the little fishes again! We haven’t chatted in ever so long, and I’m sure they have much news to pass along.”
Amelia looked at the overgrown creek bed and rather wistfully regretted not bringing the rake and hoe. Not that the cottage was that far away, but she did have some tools, and it seemed like the right thing to do was get to work right away.
“OK! I’ll see what I can do!” she said.
She took off her backpack and leaned it against one of the roots, before pulling out her tools - the garden fork, trowel, and of course the keen bill. Selecting the fork, she turned and knelt on the creek bank, and started dragging out the accumulated leaves and detritus that matted into the reeds. It felt quite a bit like she was brushing the reeds and thought whimsically of tying some of the stems into braids. But that wouldn’t help the flow.
Much like the work in the cottage and yard, it didn’t take particularly long before her work showed results. Once the organic litter was removed, the water started flowing a bit better, which washed more of the litter down the stream, helping the process along. She used the trowel and at times the hook to uproot the reeds that grew in the center of the creek, and relocated some along the bank.
After all, it wasn’t that the reeds were bad, just a bit overzealous in their growth. Just like hair. Sometimes it needs a good trim!
“Ahhh! It feels wonderful to have the stream tickling my roots again! Marvelous!” said the oak, after she had worked for quite some time.
Where before the water had been almost entirely still, once she had emptied the blockages it tinkled and burbled. In front of the oak, the creek bed widened, maybe four or five feet wide at the most, and the creek was only a few inches deep, but now it was able to flow. It babbled and gurgled as it made its way past, and soon several remarkable looking silver fish nosed their way out of the upstream reeds and into the free-flowing pool before the oak.
“My friends! Pardon me, caretaker, but I must catch up with my friends” said the oak, before its speech, still the deep woody sounds as before, turned from clear English to sounding like bubbles and snaps. Since the bubbles started coming from the little fish that darted about, clearly they were having a little chinwag, if such could be said about fish and trees.
“I’ll let you guys talk! I should probably make my way back home and clean up. I’ll be back soon, and we can decide what I should work on next! It was a pleasure to meet you, Alder!” she said as she gathered her tools.
“Thank you, little one! You have done a great job! I look forward to seeing your future work! I’m sure we will all be in good hands!” harrumphed the old tree.
Amelia smiled as she headed back up the steep slope and back along the pathway she had hacked through the bushes. After meeting a talking oak, she was certainly glad she hadn’t chopped down any of the trees and had taken the time to replant the saplings in the yard instead of piling them up with the other leaves and trash. Although, who was to say that there weren’t any talking bushes or plants in this wood? She’d have to take extra care what she cut up in the future!
As she walked back towards the cottage, Whisper, Blue, and Beige all followed her, with the two birds playing chase about the newly cleared tree trunks, Whisper in hot pursuit. They looked to be having great fun! It sure would be nice to be able to fly, she thought. Although, having thumbs to open crisp packets is a pretty great thing as well, come to think of it.
She made sure as always to clean and oil the tools and put them away on their proper pegs in the shed, before heading into the cottage.
As it was this morning, the fire still burned merrily, despite her not having added any wood since the day before. The pewter pitcher was filled with warm, steaming water again, and the white fluffy towel was dried and folded, just as it was when she woke up this morning.
“Hello Cottage! I don’t know how you do it, but thank you! It is wonderful to come home to such a warm, cheery place! And the hot water and towel is amazing! Thank you!” she said.
The house didn’t respond, but she was sure it understood what she was saying.
She used the washbasin to clean herself up, especially her hands and arms which had been covered in mud and river muck. The fluffy towel was hung up on the back of the door to dry. She would need to find a better place for it. The cottage seemed to be able to clean and fold it but there was no need to add to its work, and it just seemed like the right thing to do.
Amelia sat in the armchair, putting her feet up on the hassock as she sank back into the cushions.
“Ahh!” she said in pure delight. There is very little that feels as good as a nice, comfortable chair in front of a delightful little fire after a hard task well completed.
Whisper danced in front of the fire for a bit, before coming to rest on Amelia’s head, her new favorite perch.
“So you’re a wisp, hmm? Pleasure to meet you!” Amelia said with a smile. It was nice to learn a little bit more about her new friend.
Friends, really. She had only just gotten here, and now she had several friends. A cottage that seemed to want to cater to her needs, a cute glowing wisp, some wonderful musical birds, and a talkative old oak tree.
Now wasn’t that something? Who would have believed it?
“I wonder what Alder has in store for us to do tomorrow? I think this time I’ll wait to fetch the tools until we know what we’ll be doing. And perhaps I should head into the store tomorrow and stock up on some bags and sacks for collecting all the leaves and cuttings I’ve been making. And snacks, of course!”.
Whisper, very nearly asleep in her cozy nest on Amelia’s head pulsed a deep green of agreement. Probably about the snacks, of course.
“I never thought being a caretaker of a little cottage in the woods would be such an adventure!” said Amelia, her words a little muffled as her eyes closed and her body relaxed.
“I love it here …” she said, before dropping off to sleep.
As before, she didn’t even notice as the thick, soft duvet was draped onto her, and tucked around her shoulders and legs.
The fire died down a bit. It wouldn’t do to be too bright, and everyone knows you want the room a little cold, to make the covers that much nicer. It crackled a bit, just to let Amelia know it was on the job.