"I will never read Irish myth and legend again without recalling The Wood! with shivers!
I just hope I don't get any new patients believing they've run into a bunch of Fomorians." Cathy A. Chance, Ph.D.,
The wood did not welcome visitors.
The ancient pines awoke and stretched their limbs, sending a ripple through the trees as they sensed the
presence of others.
Beneath the thick boughs animals stirred, woken by the creaking of ageless branches. The creatures raised
their noses, finding a scent in the shadows as they anticipated the coming of visitors.
In the thickest parts of the forest, where the shadows were darkest, lived things that even the ancient
trees dared not seek to understand.
While they awaited the arrival of the newcomers, the beasts looked skyward, between the great boughs, and
saw that the great yellow orb was passing its zenith.
The day prepared to give way to dusk.
With a low groan that the unwary might mistake for a spring breeze touching the branches, the trees settled
and waited for the intruders.
No. The wood did not welcome visitors.