Thank you for the light you pour over me. Oh and everything else that needs to grow. Whether it is the food we eat or the magic some call upon. You lift life from the soil and charge the air with energy. I can feel it while you warm me to my core. I do not take for granted the way you coax the herbs from the earth. Nor, the way your warmth settles on my skin while hiking lost in the quiet wildness.
Time
Thank you for the long days we spend together. When I wander trails as I breathe in the sunlit air and feel myself expand. You give me the freedom to be wild and alive in a way only you can. But I also thank you for the days when you step back. You let the rain move in. The clouds soften the light. The earth drinks deep. I know growth needs balance.
Strength
This season, I ask for your continued strength to fuel my journey. Help me carry your fire when the days get heavy. Help me remember that even in the heat, there is rest. Let your light inspire my spells, my words, and my heart. Keep me connected to the land and to myself as I move through the longest days.
There’s something about the water that makes me feel alive. I could be kayaking over a calm lake or swimming in the cool depths. Either way my skin tingles and my spirit lights up. Being in natural bodies of water strips away noise and lets me simply be radiant and free.
Trees
I feel that same glow in the trees. Sunlight filters through leaves. I breathe the forest air deep into my lungs. The mountains bring another kind of light. This light comes with each step on the trail. Sweat on my shirt and the ache of muscles pushing forward contribute to it.
Camping
The campsite, the crackling fire calling to something wild in me. Setting up the tent just right brings a quiet satisfaction, a small victory no matter how long it takes. When the day settles into night, holding a cup of hot tea and writing but, on my phone. Such a sacred moment. Here my thoughts shine brightest.
These are the places and moments where I let my glow be seen. It’s not always sunshine and sparkle. Often, it’s the wildness of sweat and dirt. Sometimes, it’s the warmth of a fire. Other times, it’s the quiet of ink (digital ink) and tea. This is where I feel radiant, whole, and actually me.
We started off seeing 8 sheriffs with one car pulled over. Then our route was detoured two times for the same wreck. We were 20 minutes behind schedule.
Luna, my seven-year-old American Pit Bull Terrier, and I hit the 1.6-mile Mambourg Park Loop in Lancaster, Ohio. It’s a smaller trail with just about 144 feet of elevation gain. However, it’s enough to wear us out in a good way. The trail starts wide and grassy. Then, it narrows as it climbs and gets more forested. It’s just the kind of walk Luna loves. There were plenty of squirrels and bunnies for her to try and chase.
Early on, we climbed some wooden steps, then crossed a small bridge over a creek. The sound of the water felt peaceful, especially with the light drizzle falling around us. Just off the trail, a small stream carved quietly through the edge. Little pretty rocks were scattered all around. Rocks, I was trying to ignore because, well, I already have enough at home for my Etsy store.
The air was thick with humidity, so muggy you could practically cut it with a knife. And, yeah, Ohio trails always get me with those spiderwebs, catching me every few steps. Luna didn’t care; she was busy watching every little rustle.
Lit.
About halfway through, I lit a joint… so you can consider the trail “lit.” It’s how I unwind. I take it all in. The buzz mixes with the fresh air and quiet sounds around us. Right as I extinguished the joint, we detoured off trail for a barking jack Russell terrier. Luna doesn’t do loud dogs and, Luna typically isn’t a loud dog. Don’t get me wrong she has dog friends but, they have all been introduced methodically.
Appalachia & Folk Lore
This area is part of Appalachia. It is a region steeped in rich folklore. It has haunting legends that have been passed down for generations. These stories were originally told around campfires and kitchen tables. They were meant to entertain, teach lessons, or warn travelers in the woods.
Dog Man
One well-known tale is Dog Man. It is a mysterious creature said to be part dog and part man. Dog Man roams the forest edges at night. Locals say his howl is eerie and unnatural, a warning to stay on the trail and not wander too deep.
Tall Guys
Then there are the Tall Guys. They are shadowy, elongated figures. These figures are said to stand motionless among the trees, blending perfectly with the trunks. Some say they’re spirits of ancient guardians or lost souls trapped between worlds. The Tall Guys are silent watchers. Spotting one is considered an omen. No one is quite sure if it’s good or bad.
Just don’t Whistle!
A common warning passed through the hills is don’t whistle in the woods. It’s believed whistling can summon malevolent spirits. It may attract the attention of the “haints” (ghostly beings). These beings follow the sound and may lead travelers astray or cause misfortune. Whistling breaks the natural silence of the forest, inviting unseen dangers.
Do NOT Look in the Trees!
Similarly, you don’t look directly into the trees, especially at twilight or nighttime. The woods are said to hide spirits called “tree watchers” or “shadow folk” who observe silently. Locking eyes with them is thought to invite their presence, which could bring bad luck, fear, or worse. It’s safer to keep your gaze low and avoid challenging the unknown.
The Wampus Cat
Other stories include the Wampus Cat. This fierce, cat-like creature has glowing eyes. It is said to prowl the forests at night, stalking anyone foolish enough to be out alone. It’s sometimes seen as a guardian of the wild, punishing those who disrespect nature.
The White Lady (LMAO!)
On a gentler note, there’s the tale of the White Lady. She is a ghostly woman dressed in white. She appears near certain creeks or clearings. Said to protect travelers from harm and guide lost hikers. She disappears without a trace once the danger passes.
Melungeons
A legend specific to this part of Appalachia involves The Melungeons. They are a mysterious group of people with a complex heritage. This heritage blends European, Native American, and African ancestry. For centuries, the Melungeons lived in the remote hills and hollows, often on the outskirts of mainstream society.
Folklore says they possessed secret knowledge passed down through generations. This knowledge included herbal medicines, ancient rituals, and a deep connection to the spirit world. Some believe they served as guardians of the forest. They were able to communicate with the unseen forces that roam the Appalachian woods.
Local tales whisper that encountering a Melungeon could bring both protection and a test. They were said to recognize those who respected the land and its spirits and offer help or healing. But for those who were disrespectful or ignorant, crossing their path might bring misfortune or strange happenings.
Their isolation and secrecy fueled many rumors. Some say they practiced old-world magic. Others believe they had ties to ancient European mystical traditions. Others claimed they could disappear into the woods like shadows, slipping between the seen and unseen realms.
Much about the Melungeons remains a mystery. Their legacy adds a rich, enigmatic layer to Appalachian folklore. It reminds hikers that these lands hold stories beyond what meets the eye. Here, history and myth intertwine deep in the hills.
Up up up up up!
As we pushed on, it got steeper, uphill, uphill, uphill. Luna’s panting grew louder. Her energy was fading. It’s funny because she started out wild. She ended up just as wiped as me.
The trail opens up at the end. Or it opens at the beginning, depending on how you look at it. It leads into a spot that reminded me of childhood afternoons. I used to spend those afternoons watching BMX races or riding little ATVs. My mom’s friends created a trail off to the side of the wheeling trail in the woods. We would race bikes or ATVs there.
We wrapped up around 7:31 PM, sweating more than I expected in the muggy air. Luna and I jumped into the car, blasting the AC full blast. It’s 74 degrees out, and we’re already plotting our next hike.
