Bridget here before?” Sean smirked and winked. “She works with me over in Accounting.”
Derry grinned and shook his head with a sigh.
“Yes, I believe we've met. Pleasure to see you again, though.”
Bridget smiled and nodded.
“Yes, good to see you too! And it's such a lovely day outside!” Bridget let go of Sean's hand for a moment to raise her arms overhead and spin around in place excitedly. “Oh, I love the outdoors, especially in the Spring!”
Sean took Bridget's hand again and pointed to a nearby trail. “We've set up camp out on the ridge at the middle of the main trail. You're welcome to join us.”
Derry paused, glancing back and forth at Sean and Bridget's smiling faces.
“I think I'll have a look around before I pick a spot. Maybe I'll drop in for a visit, though.”
“Alright, then.” Sean nodded. “Well, we're headed back to the car first. See you out there?”
Derry nodded. “Yes, see you out there.”
Sean and Bridget proceeded hand in hand toward their car. Derry picked up his camping gear and started heading into the woods.
The weekend festival seemed a lot less interesting to Derry than he had remembered it.
In another large field deeper into the woods, they had set up several dozen tents and tarps with various vendors, musicians, and artists plying their trades. There was a large central tent with a slightly raised stage, and a small information tent nearby with a list of the weekend's festivities and a map of the trails through the woods.
There were around a hundred people milling about the fairgrounds, pausing to listen to music, or get their faces painted, or buy a bit of food or woodland fairy memorabilia. Some people were wearing fairy or elf costumes, and others were wearing medieval and Renaissance outfits of varying quality. Most were wearing ordinary street clothes, with many short sleeves and some shorts and skirts in honor of the mild Spring day.
As he walked slowly through the fairgrounds, Derry briefly found himself quite entertained and amused by the lively energy and colorful costumes and behaviors of the crowd. By the time he had made his way through it all, however, it had already started to lose its charm. The trinkets being sold were overpriced and gaudy. The musicians were good, but nobody seemed interested in sitting still for a moment to actually listen to them. The crowd, which seemed lively and playful at a glance, felt like the restless and banal buzz of the city that Derry had hoped to leave behind.
He hadn't realized it until he got out here, but what he was really looking for was time in the woods.
Derry made his way to the far side of the festival and started walking down one of the smaller side trails. He had been down this trail before when he was in college, but the intervening seven or eight years had left him with little memory of where any of these paths lead. After a few minutes of walking, the buzz and bustle of the fairgrounds had faded from his ears, and he found himself alone in the woods.
Once he was alone, his pace slowed as he took in his surroundings. The winding dirt path was surrounded on all sides by hardwoods, especially oaks ranging from saplings and mid-sized trees to the occasional ancient giant. The canopy overhead was filled with fresh green leaves that rustled audibly in the wind and allowed countless small patches of sunshine to filter through to the otherwise shady understory. The ground was still damp in the shade, but the sun had been out long enough to dry the treetops and clearings, filling the air with a mix of the scent of moist soil and hints of fresh pollen.
Derry smiled contentedly as he walked along the path, listening to birdsong echoing through the forest and keeping an eye out for any wildlife. After a few more minutes of walking, he came upon a small clearing and decided to set up camp. With his tent and sleeping bag in place, he sat on a fallen log in the clearing and continue taking in his surroundings.
Somehow, in the confines of a grey-walled cubicle, he had forgotten what it was like to be out here in the fresh air, surrounded by sun and wind, earth and sky, trees and grass and clover. His skin felt warm in the sunshine, and the wind played with his short hair just as it played through the branches overhead and the smoothly swaying grass of the clearing. Now that he was out here, he remembered long days and nights spent out in these woods, celebrating with friends or going off on his own, simply walking and sitting in silence.
Soon, minutes turned into hours, and he found himself sitting in contemplation as the sun arched high overhead and settled back down beneath the treeline. He took a break to eat lunch, and a break to eat dinner, and a break to go for a walk and relieve himself. But for the most part, he sat and stood and paced in the clearing, watching quietly as deer migrated in the distance, and a hawk flew overhead, and the brilliant blue of mid-day gave way to the warm red hues of sunset and the twinkling indigo of night.
When Derry saw the moon rising above the treeline, he knew that it was time to sleep. For a moment, he started crawling into the tent. Then, he thought better of it and reached inside to pull out his sleeping bag. As he crawled into the bag and laid his head down, the clearing was bathed in the crisp silver light of the all-but-full moon. Derry looked around with a smile, then laid back and counted the stars until he fell asleep.
When Derry awoke, he was laying on his side in his sleeping bag. Vague memories of last night's dreams were drifting through his mind like trails of morning mist: visions of small bare feet dancing on moist earth and grass, whispers echoing through the trees, glimpses of flesh and foliage shuddering in the moonlight. As he sought to make sense of these images, their memory slipped from his mind like an evaporating fog slipping through a child's fingers.
Derry had grown unaccustomed to sleeping on the ground, so his body was filled with minor aches and pains that left him mildly reluctant to move. Once he was fully awake, however, he stretched his arms overhead and opened up his eyes to greet the new day.
To his surprise, there was a scrap of paper in the grass just a foot away from his face.
Derry's heartbeat quickened. He sat up and looked at his surroundings. There was a light dew on the grass, and no sign that anyone other than him had been walking in the clearing. And yet, here was this note, just like the others – a small green parchment, rolled up like a scroll, bound with a single dandelion stem and flower.
After a moment's hesitation, Derry picked up the note. He untied the dandelion stem, setting it delicately in the grass beside him. Upon unrolling the scroll, he discovered yet another message written in expert miniature calligraphy.
with a faery, hand in hand.
He sat in stillness for a moment, contemplating the meaning of the words on the frayed bit of parchment. It was all from a poem he'd read once, but he couldn't remember how it went. Before he could consider the question any further, however, he noticed motion off in the woods.
A woman in a flowing green dress was walking down the path. She had long red hair and a lively hop and skip to her step. For a moment, Derry didn't recognize her. As she drew closer, he realized that she was Bridget, the woman from the office who Sean had brought along to the festival.
Bridget skipped and danced into the clearing. Derry tucked the scrap of paper into his pocket as she approached.
“Good morning, sleepyhead!”
Bridget took Derry's hands and lifted him to his feet. Then, she stood on her toes to plant a kiss on his lips.
Though the kiss was quick, it took Derry's breath away. Her lips were soft, and her bright green eyes burned with a wild ferocity above her broad, sly smile. For a moment, he was struck speechless, a broad grin slowly spreading across his own lips. When her soft, warm hands slid out of his grasp, he finally spoke.
“Good morning.” He paused with a slightly open mouth, searching for words. “A great morning, in fact. But what brings you here?”
“You do.”
She took his hands again and stood on her toes, leaning forward to kiss him. The kiss was slower this time, with both of
them closing their eyes for a few heartbeats as they tasted each other's lips. For a moment, he felt the curves of her body pressing lightly against him.
Derry was again struck speechless for a moment, but soon broke the silence with a chuckle and a broad grin.
“Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the attention. I just thought you were here with someone else, is all.”
“A beautiful woman comes to you, and you ask questions?” Bridget laughed. “If you must know, he was just my ride. He's fun, but not as fun as you.”
“Fun?” Derry grinned. “Oh, I'd like to think I'm fun, but it's been a while since-”
Bridget laughed.
“Oh, you're fun alright. You've forgotten, but I'm here to help you remember.”
Derry paused for a moment, lost in thought as he looked into Bridget's bright green eyes. Her eyes matched the color of her dress, which matched the color of the green leaves on the trees all around them.
“Are you the one who left the notes?”
“Notes? Ooh, they must be from the wee folk! Let me see!”
Bridget started hopping up and down excitedly, her eyes sparkling wildly in the sunshine, and her lips spreading in a broad smile. Derry chuckled and reached into his pocket to pull out the most recent scrap of parchment. As Bridget read the note, she calmed down a bit, her expression settling into a warm smile.
“Ah, the wee folk have always been fond of Yeats. All of us are, but especially