I sat down on a mossy log, children next to me with faces of youth and the elderly gazing my way.

The forest seemed to be collective, waiting for me to tell its stories.

I closed my eyes for a moment and some good old memories took over me.

I found myself opening my eyes to meet theirs. "My name's Hazel."

All of a sudden I was in this forest, actually have been here for more years than I should admit. And it all began with my mother, Irene..."

I spun the story of us coming to these woods, and Jane with Brutus as well about those mysterious lights that took my mother from me.

The children made excited noises while wide-eyed, whispering. I saw the adults leaning in, so taken with a life story unlike their own.

It was then that something rustled in the undergrowth.

In the midday and away from his pained expression came a familiar face—Old Tom, a local hermit who stayed on the other side of the town's hunting grounds and had often helped me when I was sick at home.

Throughout my years in these Virginia woods, Tom has helped me and vice versa through both drought and unending rains.

The man had a grizzled appearance, his unkept beard threading out like roots of the woods but his eyes shone with knowledge as old and wise as the trees.

A silent greeting passed between us for I recognized Tom as a fellow guardian of the forest. The rest of the gang looked and cocked an eyebrow at him, then.

"Ah," I said, smiling. "Looks like we've got another joyful soul coming to school today. Folks, this here is Old Tom. He could probably track us through these woods without any problem... as well as I know them."

Tom laughed, his voice a scratchy bark. "Almost, Hazel? Perhaps, I would probably still be able to teach you a trick or two.

Such was our back and forth; the children laughed, and some fresh air circulated all around us between their enthusiasm.

I motioned for Tom to come over, and he sat down on a stump nearby that made our old Maple table feel nostalgic.

"Now, where was I?" I mused, tapping my chin. Oh, right... the spirits of the forest.

These woods, children; are alive in ways you have not imagined. Every tree, every stone, & every creature has a story to tell- if you know how to listen with your heart and soul.

Bending, I picked up a handful of soil and let it run over my fingers. Passing a small pouch of dirt around, I directed guests to "Feel the soil. Close your eyes and be with it. What does it tell you in the end?"

They were eager, returning to dig their hands into the soil; they frowned as they scooped more dirt.

Suddenly, one of the boys who had eyes closed said. "It feels... alive. Like it's breathing."

"Yes, everything is alive", I nodded.

"That's right, child. We, the humans won't realize it until we know beneath our feet is nothing but crumbled debris, and before you wonder what I'm talking about let me share a small yet powerful thought with you: "The earth breaths! The forest is a sea of roots and little animals that keep the entire woodland up above ground."

You see, Old Tom was a real gnarly old goat and he got right down into your face with a whispering gravel voice; "Then if you know the forest," he continued, "you will hear the chirping of crickets and the songs of birds. For the forest, never forgets that which it raised.

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The adults looked doubtfully at each other, but as for the children they were all eyes and ears.

The same spark of curiosity I had seen in their eyes decades ago, the one that had propelled me to discover how it was done out there.

Throughout the day, Tom and I alternated sharing our own experiences and knowledge.

In turn, the group learned from us how to recognize what grows (and is safe) in our local environment; moving quietly through trees and learning about animal tracks.

And the children memorized that sound, their laughter among it as if bouncing on tree trunks.

A little girl, her red hair as wild as the forest around us tugged on my sleeve. She asked in a whisper "Miss Hazel, can you speak to the animals?"

I sat down beside her and my old joints protested with an unflattering creak. "And what do you call yourself, child?"

"My name is Lilith, my friends call me Lily though."

"Talking to the forest, you know" Well,′ Lily," I began, "talking with anything but another person is nothing about words -- at least not how we are talking right now. Nature and the breath of life are different. It's about understanding what is truly meant. Watch this now."

I whistled a low, melodic whistle that my mother had taught me years before.

The forest seemed silent for a moment. Then a rustle of leaves up a tree as a Bluejay peeked its head over a twig.

Lily's eyes flickered open in awe. "How did you do that?"

"I asked politely in my way," I winked. "And I listened. That's the key, Lily. Listening. Listen not to yourself, not just with your ears but with love too, pushing out your love on the rest around you."

The sun was slowly starting to drop below the trees, and long shadows covered our gathering signaling that daylight hours were winding down.

The parents were getting restless, looking at the darkening sky with growing worried expressions.

We should probably make our way back, I heard one mom say halfheartedly.

The children groaned in despair but I raised a hand. I said, calmly: "Now, now — the forest will still be here tomorrow...and probably forever. But before you all go I have something for each of you.""

I dug my hands into the pockets of a sage mix, releasing with them small cloth packets stuffed with treasures from the woods– acorns and smooth stones slipping between pinecones.

"A little piece of the woods to take with you", I said as I passed them out. "To help you remember what you learned here today."

Just as the group got up to leave, Old Tom caught my gaze He nodded at Lily, who was hanging back a bit watching some wildflowers.

"Here you go, that one has the fire," he said low. "These are the ones we need in these hard-lived woods. She'll learn these things and help others no doubt."

I nodded, feeling a swirl of emotions inside me. "I see it too. Maybe... maybe it's time I found someone to teach more personally.

Tom raised an eyebrow in surprise. "After all these years? Are you sure about that, Hazel? Time takes these kids to far places."

When she reached a purple flower, I saw the wonder on her face as she fingered its petals gently. "I always said: 'It was the forest that chose me'". "Perhaps it is now choosing someone else instead"

The voices disappeared into the trees, leaving nothing but a chorus of crickets and frogs in their place before I walked over to Lily and her parents.

"Your girl was given a gift," I said, my voice warm but insistent. "Should you choose to, I should like her to know more of our forest ways.

Lily's eyes filled with stars while her parents exchanged unsure looks. "We're not sure..." her father began.

I assured them, "It's certainly nervous. But hold on, there appears to be a silver lining — what knowledge I have to impart to Lily isn't just limited to plants and animals. It is about connection, it's about knowing our place in the world. A wisdom that is slowly fading like the morning dew of each passing day."

Lily's mother gazed at her hopeful daughter and gazed back at me. "Can we think about it?"

I nodded, smiling. "Of course. The forest is as patient as I am... you know where to find me.

Lily came back with her father, Javier, and as the three of them turned to leave, she glanced over her shoulder straight into my eyes. At that exact moment, I did see a girl like me soon to learn about what magic is hidden at the heart of the woods.

Then Old Tom was right next to me, like a shadow. Looks like these old woods up here might have some new stories to tell, after all, he chuckled.

My strength had been nourished by his words, and I nodded with newfound determination. "Indeed they do, Tom. Indeed they do."

With the last of daylight disappearing, I walked back to my cabin with only the whispers of forest in tow.

The spirits of my mother, of Jane; all those who had ever walked on this ground before me seemed to dance in the twilight.

Stopping at my door, the trees turning to darkness behind me I. "Why, Mama," I murmured to the still night air. "It appears that in some way I am exactly like you after all." One of those eager children you had to educate, like yourself.

The leaves on the trees above rustled in the warm morning breeze, and for a split second, I could have sworn my mother's laughter was there with me.

And so I left the room with a smile knowing whatever tomorrow brought, I would be ready.

The forest had chosen me so many years ago and now, it seemed, the forest had chosen me again.

And the wheel of knowledge, of relationship to place, would turn. And I, Hazel daughter of Irene would also be here to find a new way to pass the torch.