Introduction to Green Survival « Green Survival

Much of the first half of the book comes from actual experiences. Many of the characters in the book are real people or composites of several people.

Some have their original forest names and some do not. Some of these characters went on to lead large organizations or international protest campaigns, some stayed in the trees and some went underground (maybe). Some drew heat from the feds and others should have.

I myself know little of anything that has taken place in the Northwest or in animal or forest defense since 2000.
who fight for all species.

This is the Battle of the Future. And this is your specie's last opportunity to re-route the path of evolution ? to etch new patterns into a planet's fate.

Walk with me, ...

that slim path of chances, the Edge where Unconditional Love touches Unconditional Sacrifice. Somewhere in our Dreams, the Gray Path breaks through the trap and creates La Tierra Luminoso."
Bear's shaggy shoulder : " The Nature of Things is to seek life. The Web of Life, patterns awareness of Right Connections. Intimacy is the carrot and Chaos the stick.

When you have seen My death, your heart will burst with the knowing.
to energize the Nature of Things and the Patterns of the Future.

Beware the Agents of Chaos - those who would steal the magic - when Faith abandons Conscience.
 The Patterns of Life recycle nutrients and energy on Earth.

I designed the Patterns with a piece of each God's heart. These are only borrowed. Each cycle, a new Chosen must earn the right to renew the Offering of the Gods.

I , set the elves to guard the Patterns ...

and like you they maintain that vigil unto death ...

or worse.
threatened !

I made a mistake that I can not fix without your help. Humans have lost most of their elvish ability, but they - above all creatures - still dream and think into the future. That is your magic.

Even the Gods forgot their Shadows ..

. Chaos potential multiplies the longer you deny the Sacrifice of the Chosen. Your delay questions the very Nature of Things.

Hasten, for the Magic evolves, and its momentum redefines its needs and its requirements. Vortexes of unfulfilled wishes clash with the Magical Defense - the Patterns of Life. Great or terrible Imprints demand expression.

I cannot say whether the Union - the Great ...

or the Sacrifice ? the Terrible - shall prevail.
or else, edges will multiply and corrode deeper into your consciousness. Destroy the Lines of Greed which lead Shadow Wishes to the Portal. Darnovoi seeks the Dominion of the Nebyakin - an end to Life and Magic.

  ..

. Listen to the leaves' whisperings ..

. kiss the wind ..

. listen to the cries of the Earth and be the trailing wails of a vanishing specie. Reach out your toes to feel the edge of the abyss - where the Great Imprint draws cataclysm.

Forget everything you 'know.' Discard all attachments and possessions. Follow your nose to
  Refugees, Gods ! So many refugees from the floods and nowhere to go, with violence in the cities. Those summers of '02 and '03, roads were clogged with bewildered folks.

Some tried to get up into the hills, but most couldn't make it. The rivers were running wild and high.
  Our story was a common one, of those who thought they were ready. It's hard to really prepare when you've no idea what to expect. It helps to keep repeating: food and shelter, food and shelter.

..
  We set about to live deep into the forest. Alina and Sunshine knew much about gardening, wild foods, and food preservation. Fanghorn was only twelve, yet quite proficient at stalking with his bow.

Ermine and Peak were young pros at security, planning and recons...

We practiced making jewelry and talismans from
  We found a nice summer campsite on a lush little stream. We hunted, grew hemp, and built natural material yurts.

We often traveled to the Fairs and Gatherings selling or trading our homemade jewelry and raingear. People liked our pamphlets on the Elven Predictions and the Way of the Goddess. Sometimes we talked to people about how the Rednecks and Elves could live together and create a better world.

  A New Magic shall arise amid the rubble of a dying world or perhaps not dying but only the passing of the world as we knew it. I cannot see all who travel the Path nor what trials they must suffer, for a Disturbance - an unbalanced Power - seeks good but is untested.

I know this for it will be a part of me, coming from my life or out from my life's changing. It will grasp and cling, yet with love and belief - the Savior will shine - the Portal will dim. -  Jarrel - Witch of Scarlet Glenn
This Book is dedicated to David Gypsy Chain, Naya (Santa Cruz); Beth O'Brien (Portland, Oregon)Tre Arrow, Rob Los Picos, Craig Marshall, Ted Kazinsky, (the dead weather underground), Chico Mendez, the Nun, the indigenous people of Bolivia and Ecuador, the guerrillas of Colombia , and all those who risk life, limb or liberty to stop the senseless destruction of Earth that we all depend on.

...

[ List to be continued...

]
Herein lies what is known of the Elves and their Queen, Lorien - Goddess of the Wildwood. These stories are like dreams, and this is not unusual when interacting with Elves.

It is a turbulent connection we share with them - two worlds - once connected and now so different. Even for we of the Woods - magic is confusing - almost beyond our grasp - something felt and experienced, but not easily described. One minute the sense of the magic is everywhere and then suddenly events or destinies collide and something even more amazing is created from the Sacred Things and from Spirit !

*!
  Understanding what has been and what will be remains a mystical challenge.

To - you - who are stepping into our world * welcome. Enter the place where Time and Music fill the space between the Colors of Light and Love. Silence your eyes and let your Spirit find its way toward the Light - Truth - beyond the pain.

Come and share our friendship and practice the Craft. Leaving behind your human ways is a slow and painful sacrifice. But it is one that must be endured if you would know the way and sort the wishes.

  Hesitate not at all..

.great joy and the fellowship of the Wild awaits your acceptance and your commitment. Try it.

Why not ? What else is there to do ? Become an Elf, be strong.

.. and be aware.

.. and you will see.

 
just wish the world to be nice. Vague wishes often hurt: a nice world for lightning bolts or anaerobic bacteria is different than one for mammals and mushrooms.

Humans were supposed to divine how the world works not reduce it to rubble trying to figure out their egos. What kind of world do you want, how will you get there ? Why don't you ever explain what your strategy is, or hopes to accomplish ?

  Since you ignore the animals and life that beg you now to fight like crazy - while there's still a shred of use for sacrifice..

. think up something that's a little more than symbolic art. Try this: Eco-social Defense.

Decide, either by lottery or by virtue of eco-need and practicalities, a couple Counties that make sense to occupy, settle, and apply whatever it is you believe in. Publicize your plan and the target sanctuaries - places where people should relocate to. Raise money: bake sales, panhandling, hard work, or spin some chump change out of a fat cat like Soros or Ted Turner or Woody (if he gets fatter).

Set up land trusts for low-impact eco-communities. Start building and planting trees, learning and teaching simple - living skills, and fighting (nicely ) to defend the ecology of your sanctuary.
  When enough people get there you take over all political offices and institute your radical 'bright' ideas. Then work on neighboring counties. I know its hard to abandon some struggles and places.

.. but would you rather lose everywhere or win for sure in a few places ?

There are a dozen important counties in the West that would each require only two to ten thousand new voters in order to dominate their politics. The State may try to stop you, or circumvent the Will of the People, but you'll have thousands of direct action die-hards to enforce your own law.
  That Raven still scares me. I can't stop thinking about ESD or coming up with something that makes sense - a way to live in this world that's outside denial and selfishness. The ESD plan makes sense, because it is already happening on its own (Humboldt, Eugene, etc.

) . Many of the areas the Raven suggests we take over are likely to be swamped with refugees if the country slides much further into chaos and martial law. Without this plan, the ecology of these endangered regions is seriously threatened.

  Her Elven name was Anaya. For thousands of years she was the Forest Keeper of Lorien.

Most of this time she sat in meditation at the heart of the ancient grove where Lorien had taught her the Patterns of Life and the Nature of Things.
  The last five years she had followed a group of young forest defenders.

From afar she came to know them well as she shared their hard times and their moments of victory and celebration. These young people and thousands like them believed so strongly in the need for action that they came together in circles of friendship, tribes, permanent affinity groups where bonds of love and trust grew out of closeness and sharing until a new magic was discovered.
They believed in the Elves, in the Powers, and in themselves. Most of the world was beginning to thrash through a difficult transformation. It was this traumatic transition period from one world to another which the real healers feared would consume many lives unless they acted decisively.

And so many healers and people who had vision came to the forest camps and the scattered communities of the Northwest. They embraced Eco-Social Defense, the front-line strategy and pretty much whatever the youth told them had to be done. A deep cultural revolution began to take hold.

Even many locals who used to blindly hate the eco-freaks embraced this new way of peace and coexistence. Together they began to learn a "green survival"..

. maybe the world could still learn.
   Anaya first recognized that this particular group of forest defenders were the Chosen at EWOK II. As she looked up at the protesters' tree village high in the Redwoods and heard Brione and Amnesia talking to the moss and reaching out their love, she knew beyond doubt. And Aire with Redwood needles all matted in his curly black hair could surely be an Elf, except they never have dark hair.

Maybe New York Gnome ? The Sheriffs could rarely spot him whether he was hiding in some logging slash or even walking right behind them. They were unraveling hidden, Elven Lore and Anaya wondered how long before they became aware of her.

Even though the Chosen rarely talked about their new feelings and insights, the Forest Keeper withdrew her presence somewhat, waiting until they were ready.
  That Autumn and the following year Anaya kept her watch as the Chosen grew and learned more about the struggle ahead.

Despite the interference of the Ego-Cult, the love and excitement of the Forest Defenders attracted many young people to the cause of Eco-Social Defense. The word spread and this new kind of kinship and Spirit-Power was contagious. Anaya returned to the Sacred Grove to connect the vibrations and discern the paths they might take.

          
  It was no surprise to the Elves when the following summer a moratorium on most logging was hastily agreed to. There were so many defenders contesting every timber sale that neither the government nor the corporations could afford enough security forces to continue business as usual.

There were worse problems elsewhere. The collapse of the Global Economy was sucking the USA into a chaos it would never rise out of. And people knew it - society was drifting in hopelessness.

The riot threat and a turn toward uncontrollable violence were on many people's minds.
  So far everything had been peaceful, in the North Coast region.

A lot of logging equipment was destroyed here and there, but few injuries or assaults occurred. Tension was building and Forest Defenders put effort into reaching out to all people.
  Dear People of Lorien: we the Forest People - your neighbors - ask for patience. None of us, alone, can change what is happening. The government and even common sense have misled many people.

Excessive consumption, economic growth, and trusting the corporations were mistakes. Blaming each other will help no one. Fear will divide us if we don't resist our programmed emotions.

Calm and hopeful cooperation can win the day.
  People continue to move here for sanctuary and to save the forests.

Most have good hearts and seek only refuge, purpose and peace. You find life's meaning in hard work, church, and security for your families. We work hard surviving and defending what we love.

The forest and everything living there is Sacred to us. Without healthy ecosystems few will survive the hard times ahead. Road building and clearcuts have taken the Salmon away that could have fed us all, but it's not too late to begin the restoration of this wondrous land we are so fortunate to live in.

 Changes are not easy. We have to believe in a way for all who love this region to live and work together.

Our dreams need patience and a sincere desire to understand each other, or they will fail. No alternative avoids all violence and discomfort. Don't condemn any group for the rash actions of a few individuals.

The government will discredit or kill forest defenders. They want division and people afraid of each other..

. but it won't work this time.  
  Creative and future-looking people from all perspectives will grasp what will be and what has to be done to get us there. Isolation and our Ranger Defense will stop the government from intervening in our experiment in cooperation if we are united or at least restrained. As an act of trust and good faith, Forest Defenders and the Eco-Commandos will begin a cease-fire and no new lands will be occupied within Lorien.

The Logging and Mining Moratorium will be enforced. Electricity may not be available and transportation will be disrupted . But we will still have our fertile soils, our forests and our spirit to sustain us.

  Come and visit our camps and farms. We have food at our table for anyone who cares about peace and sharing.

For Autonomy and Survival. -- The Forest People: El Norte Command
  Peace held on in many places that Fall and Winter.

The Free-States took root and made their history. Food donations were abundant and a wild variety of shelters popped up across the land. A few truck drivers were injured when they resisted confiscation of their loaded log trucks.

Three young people died attempting to bomb a major electric substation near the Siskiyou-Lassen boundary.
  And Death stalked the very heart of the Wildwood.

Decay and the toxic hate of souls lost to evil's touch, reached unto the edges of the Sacred Groves. Shadows grew boulder, lingering, waiting..

.
  Elvenkind knew their final hour approached.

In need they would make their final offerings and go back into the land and elements they came from. Always passive and nonviolent except for a few roads and bulldozers, the elves waited and watched as humans destroyed the forests and killed each other. Lorien, Goddess of the Wildwood, found her powers fading as did other of the Minor Powers.

Magic was being drained into some spell or wish of infinite complexity. The Wildwood was dying with its magic. Elven children all died at birth and the souls of these tortured ones were trapped for some reason.

These are the Wildryns of which little is known.
  Now, perhaps too late, Lorien guides the Forest Keepers to work with humans who in their heart of hearts desire to live simple and heal the planet.

And the Wild-Fire went out to people's dreams so they relived the journey and struggles of a thousand generations of their ancestors...

and what life was truly about through time and change. The Shadows were pushed back for now and fears subsided, allowing everyone a pause to think before they wasted their last chances ..

. Their Last Wish.
  Hazel parked her mountain bike next to Kith's and lay back in the grass and weeds next to the snag of an ancient Douglas Fir. Years of living wild out in the forests brought her many new skills, but the one she valued most was just being able to settle down and become part of your surroundings. Soaking up everything and tuning into the details around you.

 
  You could never be alone once you knew Nature, she thought, as she watched the woodpeckers chipping away at the old tree above. It felt good to be a Forest Defender,
  The sound of footsteps roused her from peaceful daydreams and she pushed herself up on one elbow to watch Kith coming around the corner of the road. She couldn't see too well through the branches but the dark ruffled hair and the dirty Carhart woods pants assured her that it had to be him. She knew almost every stitch on the numerous patches that barely held his lucky pants together.

It wasn't that he liked looking sloppy. She knew, he was just too busy to care much about appearances. Besides, he thought he had her to help out in that department.

.. or he used to have her that is.

She wanted to find out what had happened at the big meeting, but she also wanted just to listen and to be there for him..

As for the chasm that threatened their friendship since they had broken up a few months ago, well she wanted that chasm to mend, but she felt that it was out of her hands now and probably for the better. She started to get up as he approached until he launched himself down next to her and rolled over on his back holding his head like he didn't know whether he wanted comfort or to end it once and for all in a mighty squeeze.
 " Hey, Kith, why so glum ?" Hazel asked, her green eyes seeking to hold his and capture a glimpse of his true feelings. He didn't exactly answer unless you count his eyes which rolled up and then closed tight.

 " Oh, yeah, the meeting, how could I forget ?" And then she added automatically and not the way she wanted: "You didn't walk out on them again, did you ?

"
  Though only twenty years old, she had been to more meetings and endless attempts at contrived consensus than almost anyone. She chided herself for the way she had asked Kith that last question, the tone she often used without thinking, the tone of authority that she couldn't shake.

.. the thing that got her in trouble enough times.

.. and with Kith and a few other guys too.

Fortuitously, a spunky chipmunk scampered up to them and stood with its head moving from one to the other as if accusing them both of being silly and human.. Hazel wanted to shout at the innocent creature : " why do I have to be the one who knows everybody and all the factions, the splinters - and knows them so well too?

I'll do anything - whatever it takes - but Gods ! it's really weird, like being Chosen by circumstance with a pile of crazy pieces trying to put themselves back together.
  She looked closer at her 'old' friend, her soft eyes trying to speak kindness and wanting him to talk ? about the meeting, anything., but Kith's attention stayed absorbed with the chipmunk who he watched intently as if she wasn't even there.

   Kith still didn't answer and Hazel rose up slightly to face him. The chipmunk scurried away at the motion and Hazel sat picking the pine needles and twigs out of her long blond braids.

Kith stopped watching the chipmunk running away and moved closer to Hazel's side. .Finally, a slight smile broke across his face.

Tensions eased away and she knew he was happy that she had waited for him.
  Kith spoke as he rubbed her knee, "Do you know it seemed like that chipmunk was trying to tell us something.

He probably felt my grumpiness and wanted to remind me how animals are supposed to be." He sat up too and put one hand on hers, "No, I didn't run away from the meeting. and I guess its a good thing I didn't.

Same old problems though. People's fears holding them back and their egos keeping them apart. When will we ever let go of the old ways ?

" he said. Weariness showed through his cynicism. He shook his head and stretched his arms up as Hazel came closer giving him a little hug before she jumped up and grabbed his hand to pull, "I know, let's go to the cliffs by the beach.

Come on," and she pulled him all the way up without much reluctance on his part.
  Gliding swiftly along the forest trails they knew so well, the two friends enjoyed the smells of the trees and the sounds of little birds chirping busily about their ways.

  Kith felt comfort to be out in the solitude with just Hazel. Sometimes they were so right for each other.

Then other times...

He remembered a year ago when things seemed simpler if crazier. The two of them used to ditch everyone else and head out into the wilds ..

. to be alone in their special places. Laying in the grass at the forest's edge, half sun, watching small white clouds cross the blue sky.

Easily letting problems disappear...

holding each other till sunset and imagining it would last forever.        
  .

.. And when they first met: She was so young, yet wisdom in common sense imbued her every act.

Vitality and youthful invincibility fairly poured from her soul. It was easy to believe that anything was possible with Eve (her old forest name) high on the forest.
  "I loved her as the Goddess immanent - strong, confident, innocent yet wary. I was captivated. To me, the rest of the world held spellbound when we were alone and I looked into the well of youth that glimmered from deep in her dark eyes.

We connected easily from the start - brother, sister, friend, could-be lover - it was the magic that surprised me most. I thought my search for a magical soul-mate was a lost cause, a fantasy. But there we were walking away from the sabotage strike, stealthy, naturally .

.. in tune with the land and the howling storm, the lashing rain .

..
  We knew then how lucky we were to find each other. Two rebel souls with such passion for the magic of dark stormy nights, old forests, and companions in danger. Together without fear, we were good at our work.

We drank deeply of each other's essence, doubting only how long the Fates would leave us...

so comfortable.
  Skirting the sand dunes, they followed along the edge of the forest, until they got to the higher ground where they could get out to the cliffs.

They could see far out into the gray-blue sea and down the coastline to where the lighthouse stood.
this year.

The rains mellow people out. Gives you focus ..

. for awhile anyway," Hazel said, hoping Kith wanted to talk, here in this place they had always treasured ? Green eyes seeking his blues.

..
  He just sat there staring out at the ocean. Then he started laughing and shaking his head, and laughing some more. She came over and knelt behind him, squeezing his shoulders where she knew he was always stiff.

 "You, gonna let me in, or is the joke on me ?" she asked, squeezing extra hard for a second.

He looked back at her a little as he reached up to touch her hand .Pushing some stray hairs back behind his ear he said,
" Remember how funny we were a couple years ago, like always looking for trouble.

.. and Aire getting new people all excited about direct actions, tree-sitting and all rearin to go, ready to do things they never would of considered.

And pulling it off!"
But Kith continued, " Well, I started thinking about that drunk logger who came into camp in the middle of the night with a half full bottle of whiskey and he started yelling
"And we played song after song: rap, country, Goddess chants. And the logger played some cool songs too, while we finished off his whiskey. The last thing he said was,
or at least solutions-oriented. So, she held back from mentioning some of the hard times they had shared back in the day: cops and jails, and people getting beat up.
  "It was great," she said truthfully as memories of the two of them in love also tried to come out.. "But look at all we've done.

We never really believed we'd get this far so quick." She breathed in the salty ocean air and enjoyed this moment in the sunshine. The day was waning and a few clouds gathered on the horizon.

"Well I better tell you. There's good news and bad news.

You already know about the music festivals. It's all set; they'll be at those spots that we picked out last Spring . And the watershed councils are totally rad.

There's thousands of people camping responsibly - believe it or not - up on Elk River and at old Mrs. Walker's ranch. All over the place,.

people planting trees and mending fences. Old people, from everywhere are joining in - restoration projects, helping new-comers. .

.. I swear, it sounds like we'll win the elections.

"
  Hazel butted in saying , "Just in time I'd say. Things might fall apart any day, down south you know.

Go on, what about Defense and our plans ?"
"Hummmmn," Kith sighed.

"Well, Brione and I tried to talk 'what ifs' and contingencies, we really did. But Namoia and Daniel drug on and on about caution and waiting. They're paranoid, still worried cause they don't trust us or figure us radicals will ruin the image.

Shit, most people are as ready as us for...

well, for something to happen. Oh, yeah, the Militia. They've pretty much taken over inland.

I don't know if they cut a deal with the Feds or what, but there are thousands of refugees in Haymarket and maybe more in Redwing. So..

." he hesitated, looking awkwardly at her.
  She tried to calm down, but her green eyes were still burning intense when she turned around and said with a sting, " Don't tell me what to do. Don't tell me not to worry,
He waited a moment, rubbing his head into hers a little.

He pulled her hair back away from her face and gave her a slight smile,
  " Hey. Cheer up.

Brione got me a note saying we're still on for Blacks Meadow. Tomorrow..

.. no more phony meetings - just us Forest Defenders for awhile.

"
She nodded and tried to think positive. A shadow seemed to blur her thinking and she pondered his words : easy for him to say.

.. 'Cheer up.

' He's off to Denver with Miya, while I'm stuck here...

 Lightning flickered briefly a few miles away. The wind blew hard through his hair and he remembered storms.

Sneaking out his window to climb a tree or up on the roof. Wanting the lightning to come and it would. Or so it seemed to him and his young friends.

Wind and rain howling and the three of them loving it. Talking about wishing up a better world or just messing things up for fun. Getting back at them .

..
  And later, going camping for months with Aire and Tim. Making shelter in wild storms deep in the wilderness. Loving the wild powers of Nature.

Being an animal, free for awhile. Encounters with steep canyons and ancient trees along the way. He felt Hazel holding his arm and a few raindrops blowing down.

Mixed shades of greens and muddy browns glistened in the light rain as they traveled back the trail and down the hill toward their bikes. Hazel was thinking about all these feelings and the image of Kith surrounded by cold, evil.

.. shadows.

   She slowed her bike and waved goodnight as Kith rode on alone, down the hill toward Aire's cabin. A sensation passed suddenly and Hazel realized something else.

It was time for her to say good-bye for a long while, to her little farm and this whole neighborhood of friends and supporters. Time to say farewell to the only home she had known the past four years..

. the only place she had ever felt secure.
   "Is everything falling apart or coming together? So much tension and Ego tearing at people, couples, groups. The desire to come together in these troubled times.

I guess it takes the energy level up so high, we all end up haywired - looped."
  Searching for  joy, her thoughts went back to the Base Camp she had just visited.

All the young people were so tight, and they knew Rei-Ki now too. Anarchist - Punk, riff-raff kids. Practically half of some camps were really serious youth under twenty- years-old, serious but definitely light-hearted !

She smiled at remembering the young girl admonishing an elder to put waste into the correct recycling bins. Respect, yes, but deference to age - not likely anymore.
   "Maybe I'm losing touch with them. I know how they feel inside: a generation or two of broken families, dissed by all the lazy Baby-Boomers they could never look- up to. Nobody to look- up to, only a dying landscape of endless Yuppie-dom and plastic culture, life and the End Times all speeding up at them.

Now choosing their own culture, voting with their feet - since democracy in America is such a joke . 'Life is magic when you start to break free,' is their new motto. They consult the healers and they listen to new voices, hearing, clearly, the call of the Forest and Nature's simple ways.

" And she wondered if maybe, Brione's wish worked there too like her wishes now guided the Core Group of the Forest Defenders.
  "Well, youth aren't waiting for nobody ever again.

They are the vitality that spurs on change. Society provided no outlet for kids to engage their creative intellects - their passion for action. They made it happen on their own.

Boredom saved the day or the forests at least, so far. Not really so difficult for them, in a way, since youth had nothing to go back to. They just walked away, in disgust, as far away from the Old World and its pitiful claims of 'techno-glory' as they could get.

They found the magic in each other and in just the simple things around them, living in Nature - no attachments - just living and sharing joy.
   The healers have joined them now .

.. and witches too !

They're all working together, to keep the peace, relieve stress, and who knows. Something's up, I know it. I'm sure it's got to be good.

Probably everything will work out and come together nicely if we just let it happen. People are going to do what they want to do.
   That one Healer, the one with the powerful eyes and the freckles, she told me : 'The 'Three Fires' shall burn as One. Love guides rage into a pattern of Gaia Self-Defense. Patterns of defense connect to Earth's design.

Gaia calls youth to come and transcend the mistakes of the past - to show us the way. The Healers come to follow the young. Healing and ancient ceremony bring strength to their cause.

  The meaning of the New Trinity reveals itself as alive, living here in the Forest Camps. Send us the refugees, and .

..all your "lost birds.

" We will heal each other and learn a new way of sharing : Nature, Simplicity, and Letting Go.'"
   Hazel wondered why she wasn't more nervous and very concerned.

Somehow, it felt right. Everything - the meeting, Kith, the plan. Of course, they were committed at this point.

There aren't many choices once you know what you want . A strange moment of clarity passed and she knew: vibrations set patterns in motion. Ripples have  unknown effects.

And then she felt that quivery feeling again like she had felt at the beach cliffs with Kith. The freckled face of the healer flickered before her eyes and she had another vision: Happy, crowds at the Music Festivals,  waving their hands.

.. Brione  waving  someone .

.. away ?

And then it was gone, though she thought maybe the healers face changed at the last second and something was strange about her ears...

   "Visions or it wasn't exactly a vision, more like a feeling of something about to happen or..

I don't know but at least that one wasn't scary like the shadows around Kith." She had never had visions like these, but she had heard about many people experiencing them more frequently lately and weird dreams too. She used to think it was all mostly made-up or crazy.

Things change and the truth is almost always ridiculed at first...

like the plan.
  A year ago when they first discussed the secret plan, she thought they were all crazy, especially Dingo !

. But now, it seemed everyone supported it. And the Ranger Defense!

  Deterrence against attacks...

maybe, or...

provocation, violence, ambushes ...

"One more month, Gods !  Can the Coalition hold that long ?"
  Well, Brione would be there, she thought. She's the strong one, hard-core to da bone. Hazel shook the raindrops off her hat.

She thought about warm tea and Angela inside the house. Sleep..

.  trying , too hard, not to think about visions and journeys to come. She sucked on her upper lip, teething it slightly, as she often did.

  Hazel put her bike under the roof and was startled out of her drifting thoughts..

. a clear realization dawned in her that she needed to dream, needed to let it out. Her time had come,  a time when you know you can accept .

.. you rise to the occasion .

.. you cast doubts aside and trust to friends and wishes.

                
  "Brione knows. She tried to tell me about wishes and how things were changing.

" Hazel pondered the nature of the changes that she was only vaguely aware of and then she relaxed and pictured Brione's face: beautiful, wide cheek-bones, and big brown eyes. Eyes that looked like they wanted to play with you, always twinkling, and mischievous, of a harmless, teasing sort. Such a tomboy in many ways - daring the guys .

.. lanky, wiry, sexy.

   She tapped lightly on the driftwood knocker before she opened the door to the cabin. A greeting to Angela passed unspoken when she saw her friend's finger pursed at her lips in a warning to be quiet.

Angela's toddler lay across her mother's lap with its head back and mouth open. Angela's dark eyes rolled and Hazel could only guess at how long a time it had taken to get the child asleep, and still not quite in bed. Syanni or "Dulce Mulci" as Angela was fond of calling her one-year-old daughter, was always a handful.

Her mom learned patience through the late-night wakings, the cries and worries. Now she needed all of her mothering skills to wean Syanni off the tit without wearing herself crazy.
   Angela was one of the strongest spirited persons Hazel had ever known, but she could see that haunted look that didn't need explanations between friends who were this close. Hazel knew that the counting-the-days and the imminent pain of separation must be hell on Angela. So, Syanni had to be weaned in a few days because her aunt, Abuelita Rosa Hererra would soon arrive to take the girl North to a safer place.

Who knew how long it might be before things settled down again ?
   Hazel quietly passed the rocking chair to get a mug from the counter by the dripping sink.

The herb was stored just to the right of the window where a multitude of small plants and a few cuttings competed for kitchen space that most people preferred to keep clear. Dirt crumbs and dead leaves..

. She looked over all the solid brown-tinted jars that kept the herbs fresh: Yerba Buena, Yerba Santa, Raspberry leaf..

. mullein. She settled on the new Chamomile batch that had just arrived from down river and their friends' farm near the coast.

A bit of Willow Bark went along with the Chamomile into the tea-ball. The kettle simmered as usual on a cool Fall evening and Hazel found there was still plenty left for her tea with some left over. She considered the small blue bottle with the tincture of Absinthe and Mugwort, but finally decided that she wouldn't need any help dreaming this night.

   It seemed like an awful lot was still left to be decided, but she didn't really feel in turmoil about anything specific. Well, except that is for Kith's volunteering her to go visit the Militia leaders .

..Or first!

Off to try and reach these violent leaders of the mostly fundamentalist militia and then to quickly get them all to agree on a safe meeting place...

   Hazel pointed to her cup, offering to get some for Angela. But Angela shook her head, no as her gaze went back down to the baby.

Syanni turned over slightly and the "little one" let out a small sigh as she fussed and nudged her head around in the instinctive search for milk and comfort. Angela rose smoothly and scooped the not-so-lightweight child up in her arms as she headed for the back bedroom.
   Alone and tired, Hazel sipped her tea without honey this time. And she wondered if she should be trying to talk Angela out of going on the next mission with the Eco-Commando unit from Canada, a professional but sometimes rowdy group who had been down south in Lorien for a series of expert training sessions. The three weeks of training were over and now they were getting ready to tackle a couple of hard-core power-plant attacks on their way back up to the Northlands.

   The hand-worn picture frame hung from the pine shelf boards. A photograph of the father.

Ramon's large masked face beamed at you and made you smile back because you couldn't help but feel his warm open smile ?even through a mask ! Another smaller black and white photo curled slightly where it stuck into the side of the larger frame.

It showed a very young Ramonito waving his hat and smiling with his Sandinista comrades - out the back of a truck. The same truck from which a young Ramon would impossibly escape a fiery death only a few days after this picture had been taken. Tragically, the scene had repeated with many civilian and army trucks falling prey to the terror attacks of the counter-revolutionary Contras.

With an easy disdain for National, International and World Court Laws the USA continued this highly illegal operation of intervention against one of the poorest countries in the world. A country that only had a few million adults in it. A country still suffering terribly from ten years of civil war, a century of exploitation of Los Pobres, major earthquakes and hurricanes yet to come.

   Hazel couldn't look at Ramon's picture and not be hopeful, but Ramon had been missing for two weeks and worse yet, Angela was about to jump in and take his place with the Canadian Commando unit. And she hardly even knew them or how to do the newest techniques for directed-charge settings and timers.

Hazel almost bit down on her lip as she chewed on it and shook her head, perplexed. "Compassion seems crueler than doing nothing sometimes, I swear. I'm supposed to be developing my decision skills, but I spend most of my time learning when not to butt in.

.. or at least how not to butt in on other groups.

" She admired Angela's drive and determination. She had talent and stamina too. Now her poor friend would have to fight to control her cold touch of revenge.

Brione had said twice "Not to worry...

Hazel.. absolutely OK.

" But Hazel guessed that the underlying feeling that bothered at her incessantly, was the unfairness. The endless unfairness of Ramon's disappearance. All the sacrifices that many of them were about to make.

Angela having to risk it all again when so many others shirked away irresponsibly. It is often the few who will dare anything that push prophesy along and make the big difference.
  She poured more water in her mug and went over to the sink to fill the kettle with spring water from the tap. A few more sips of the weak tea and Hazel decided there was no way she could be compassionate to Angela and to herself at the same time. The whole thing was just too hard for her to be objective about.

From her studies of the similarities between Witch Craft, ReiKi and Machiavelli she heeded well the maxim : "There can be no hidden subjective attachments when you do compassionate action or you risk creating an avoidable wrong." "There has to be a way forward in-between doing nothing and creating catastrophes. But I can't hardly even think of a decent wish, except to wish that Brione is right, that all these things have to happen and we just have breeze through the gaps in our plans.

..But what about the holes in our armor ?

"
   The tea and the whole day were having their relaxing effect. Since Angela didn't come back into the main room Hazel let the warm feeling settle through her.

She yawned wide as she sat down on the futon nearest the stove and took off her shoes. In minutes that could have been hours to such heavy eyes the dreams came on and then later there were dreams that weren't dreams.
   One hand clutched the comforter but that's not what she saw. It was a lucid vision and behind it, so ghostly, was the slow-fading image of Angela. Older-looking the mother sat in the chair rocking as she waterproofed her boots like they were her baby.

.. The cold dark metal of the large pistol mirrored by its shadow in the dark stained wood of the nightstand.

A coldness that soaked up the candle light.
   A middle-aged woman, not too old, stood by a stone wall against a backdrop that had no perspective Time swirled when the woman sang.

Winds that you knew came from another world howled and yet the woman's dry wispy hair barely wavered. She sang out strongly as if against those winds, her mouth wide and her back straight.
The woman's eyes grew hugely insane and the pounding, pounding, tearing hooves ripped gouges across them. The pattern that is made from meaning danced in her eyes too and then they looked down and beheld that the swirling vision was also the arms of a boy reaching out and the thrashing hooves of the wild horses were really the sharp movements of the boys hands reflecting new patterns and shaping, flowing, a weave of light strands.
Young hands of great confidence followed the trails of the light web and then they followed him, back and forth they went until a great display of patterns revolved in space with intricate symbols spinning there and turning inside out, faster until it all began to fold in, encasing something, a sound and then just the tinniest hesitation...

The spell fell apart with a stronger thump and Hazel moaned as the shudder passed through her. Her body squirmed when she felt part of her consciousness returning, but still her eyes and her dream consciousness stayed riveted on the fading symbols' glowing outlines.

Hazel tried to absorb those symbols. She intuitively knew that something here had meaning or a use of possibly great importance.
   An echo came off the thump of the spell's death and then it was all there bright and clear again for a moment. She felt the echo of the boys hesitation again too and she recalled her own moments of doubt that had happened over the years at the wrong time or the worst possible time. All the times she let her internal dialog slow her reflexes and nearly create deadly hesitations.

The Voices of children laughing..

.came again just as an explosion of colors cascaded out from the burning symbols..

. In that light Hazel saw the children dancing in abandon as they sang and then their chanting revealed for only a split second a thing or maybe a feeling that sought life..

.It twisted and yearned for expression ..

. a sense of turmoil, layered with uncertainties.  Not simply the struggle of the Light and the Dark.

No. ..

.and not the obvious, determined to join with the mysterious..

. Something from the gray or from the patterns around that part of the vision emanated a presence.
Hazel felt keenly its desire to speak about the patterned meanings of this event that Hazel shared with it. And she was as certain as anything in her life that this presence wanted her to understand something. A vague impression that "attitude was important in de-coding these riddles" was all she caught hold of as the scene shifted distinctly.

Mixed messages drummed on at the edge of her awareness as the lights rose up with the ghost-images of the children. The name "Wildryns" came into Hazel's head. She didn't know what it meant but it had to concern the children who were dancing upward right before her eyes.

Of that she felt sure.
   Rapidly all color began to drain away and the zero-perspective flatness returned as a looming door swung toward her closing.

.. Something else yearned for its own awakening there in the shadow of that closing door.

She didn't like this thing that hid its boldness and its ugliness. It made her feel as if the thing could casually look into the scarier parts of her persona ?parts she also liked to hide.

.. And then a picture of overlaid eyes filled her brain.

A different door closed somewhere else or some time-else. For the briefest second it seemed that she experienced total pain and abhorrent evilness..

. then she felt an unexpected power.
She remembered ...

the young face looking at her through the silver mist and her own questions mirrored back, like he said, " You're doing good. We'll find a way..

.  work together."
   A faint presence faded in the West, as they turned the last sharp curve, going north. Bumping along a dusty ex-logging road, Brione enjoyed the darkness. Scars hidden in the deepening night.

The truck came to the highest spot on the road and then it rolled on downhill into a cool touch and the stillness of the older forest's moist sanctuary. Brione could relax now and gratefully she took a slow deep breath of the fresh mountain air. She watched the stars through the tree branches and thought about all the other nights like this one: the crazy "Earth-Night" actions that they were famous for.

"Where are all those funny-folks ?" she wondered aloud.
   The driver swerved suddenly. The truck running with only its parking lights on, she  couldn't tell for sure if it was a Raccoon or a Possum that they had nearly struck, but it did make it across to the side of the road. A flicker of rage glared from the animals eyes -whatever it was- as it disappeared off the steep side of the road.