For the majority of my adult life, I have been a devout Polytheist, honoring and worshiping many Gods. My husband Eric and I are also Animists: we believe that everything has a spirit and don’t privilege ourselves above the other Beings that inhabit our land. Stone People, Earth People, Tree and Plant People, Four-Leggeds, Winged Ones – they’re all precious partners in this remarkable ecosystem. From the late winter day in 2000 when we found the land we call TwoTrees, we’ve always honored the Landvaettir or spirit of the land as our partner, a conscious and living entity with whom we choose to engage collaboratively and respectfully. We ask permission to harvest herbs or transplant trees or cut fire wood, and if the response is “No”, then that response is respected.
About a year ago we decided to build a blacksmith shop for Eric, so he wouldn’t have to drag his anvil, forge and tools out of the basement every time he wanted to work. The process began with negotiation with the Landvaettir. Most people would have placed a workshop based on proximity to the road, to the power lines. Instead, I walked the area we call ‘The Bottom’, a flat area of loamy soil deposited over thousands of years by Town Fork Creek and subsequently used as farmland, now occupied by pines and poplars and maples. Section by section I asked “Are you willing to be cleared and have a small steel building erected here?” Answers ranged from a resounding “No!” to uncertainty until I asked a section that abutted our small meadow. The trees there were mostly aging Virginia pines, sickly and at the end of their life span. No large hardwoods would need to be cut. Happily, the spot was accessible from the road and close enough to the power pole for easy access. “Yes, you can build here,” I heard.
“We promise we’ll do the clearing with care. We’ll restore the area disturbed by the construction,” I assured. We made offerings to the land in gratitude: traditional tobacco, cornmeal, and whisky. We lovingly blessed each tree and released its spirit to go into the surrounding ecosystem. We were fortunate to find two young men who understood our values and who undertook the clearing process respectfully. As the trees we had to remove were not useful for timber or firewood, they brought in an amazing machine that mulched them in place, distributing their organic material over the soil in the cleared area to continue the cycle of death, renewal, and new life.
The clearing is done and the innate beauty of the site revealed. There is now a gravel driveway and pad ready to receive the building, and more offerings have been made, in thanks to the Landvaettir, to the trees-become-mulch, and to the stones that will support Eric’s work. One day soon, hammer will ring out upon anvil and one more dream will be realized. Hail the Landvaettir, Spirits of Place! Hail the Duergar, the Great Makers, who have provided the resources to support Eric’s work! Hail the Holy Powers and our Ancestors, who guide us in Right Relationship!