This site is about the nature in the north, temperate zone,
where wolves, nordics and indians live and did live, now and then.
You are welcome to look around here, collect gifts
or enjoy yourself in general, as long as you don't steel which
is not given to you.
Please, sign my guestbook if you come by.
Read Love Circle Blog.
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This webring is open for all magickal sites.
This ring welcomes those who care.
Odjurens Tid Webring
This webring is opened for all dark sites.
This ring welcomes those who see.
Sagan Om Ringen Webring
This webring is open for all historical sites.
This ring welcomes those who seek.
Romeo Och Julia Webring
This webring is open for all creative sites.
This ring welcomes those who create.
~ A Night With A Wolf ~
Little one come to my knee!
Hark how the rain is pouring
Over the roof in the pitch dark night,
and the winds in the woods a-roaring
Hush, my darling, and listen,
then pay for the story with kisses;
Father was lost in the pitch-black night
in just such a storm as this is.
High on the lonely mountain
where the wild men watched and waited;
Wolves in the forest, and bears in the bush,
and I on my path belated.
The rain and the night together
came down, and the wind came after,
Bending the props of the pine tree roof
and snapping many a rafter.
I crept along in the darkness,
stunned and bruised and blinded...
Crept to a fir with thick-set boughs,
and a sheltering rock behind it.
There, from the blowing and raining,
crouching I sought to hide me;
Something rustled, two green eyes shone,
and a wolf lay down beside me.
Little one, be not frightened;
I and the wolf together,
Side be side through the long, long night,
hid from the awful weather.
His wet fur pressed against me;
each of us warmed the other;
Each of us felt in the stormy dark
that beast and man was brother.
And when the falling forest
no longer crashed in warning,
Each of us went from our hiding place
forth in the wild wet morning.
Darling, kiss me in payment...
Hark! how the wind is roaring!
Father's house is a better place
when the stormy rain is pouring.
Poem by Bayard Taylor
~ Gifts For You ~
Click to see them all!
~ Tormented ~
I will not reason, wrestle here with you,
Though you pursue and worry me about;
As well put forth my swarthy arm to stop
The wild wind howling, darkly mad without.
The night is yours for revels; day will light.
I will not fight you, bold and tigerish,
For I am weak, while you are gaining strength;
Peace! cease tormenting me to have your wish.
But when you're filled and sated with the flesh,
I shall go swiftly to the silver stream,
To cleanse my body for the spirit's sake,
And sun my limbs, and close my eyes to dream.
Poem by Claude McKay
Adoption for you