The Wind Harp in the Willows on the Mystical Coast

Everything was connected, especially here in the wilderness life.

Emma rode her red mare, Ginger, along the trail next to the creek. The wind under the forest canopy seemed to whisper of secrets and ancient times. 

She heard the air hum through the willow reeds like music from a harp. 

The rhythm of light rain pattering on the fir boughs, and the perfume of the fir needles, carried the essence of life growing and blooming.

The windowless shack in the wilderness of 1898 where four skinny children lived with Emma’s Mama was already half a day behind.

Emma had to get help before the firewood and supplies ran out. There were also the homestead fees needing to be paid.

Her journey to get help might be solitary but Emma never felt lonely. 

Emotional threads connected her to Ginger her horse, to Shep her farm dog trotting alongside them, and to the life of the forest. 

Fourteen-year-old Emma became part of the intertwined plants and animals while she urged her chestnut horse along the deer trail. 

To Emma, she was surrounded by the embrace of a world where she was at home. 

The winding labyrinth of trails through the shimmering emerald world was part of her path of existence.

It was 1898 in the Mystical Coast Mountain Range, where the Winter clouds released waters that raced downhill toward the ocean. Wildlife sheltered under fir trees that stretched to touch the rainclouds.

Ginger, the red chestnut mare, carried fourteen year old Emma carefully. They swayed at each step like two dancers together.

Ginger’s hooves stepped delicately down the muddy, green slope, toward the crystal currents of the mountain stream. Emma’s long-haired farm dog, Shep, trotted next to the mare. 

Earlier Emma's mama, Alicia, gave her directions.

“You can do it, love. Follow the Willow Creek Trail all the way to the city.”

Emma’s Mama’s words of caring, trust, and confidence were persuasive.

“Ride Ginger. Take Shep too. You won’t be alone. We’ve made the trip before. It will take two days. Find a place under the forest canopy at night and curl up with Shep.”

At his name, the shaggy black and white dog wagged his tail slowly, his eyes watchful.

“I know, Mama.”

Riding through the fragrant forest after the rains, Emma heard her Mama's voice floating through the mists of her mind above the rest of her inner world.

“We’ll be waiting.” Emma still saw the faces of her Mama and the other children, pale in the early morning light when she left.

 The smaller children played and laughed, ran and chased each other in the forest like young deer leaping.

But Emma, the oldest, and Alicia, her widowed mother, knew supplies were running out, equipment was broken, and the rest of the homestead fees were due.

“Thank you, Emma. You’re our only hope.” Emma’s younger sister, Ingrid’s words came from her tired face with the steady gaze.

“I’ll make it. Ginger, Shep and I will get through.” Emma’s words of determination and hope echoed in her mind now.

“Good Ginger,” said Emma to the horse with a quick stroke on her neck. The mare's ears flicked.

Emma didn’t see the cougar silently slinking through the green shadows of the dense forest. The cougar heard the horse’s hooves padding on the damp floor of the forest.

 Like water flowing around rocks, the cougar fluidly snaked her way between thickets back to her den under a fallen tree.

Earlier that day Emma and Ginger also passed a Black Bear sleeping in his hibernation den. In this temperate climate sometimes the bear woke and went out to eat wild plants.

But today the bear dreamed of eating summertime huckleberries and fishing for salmon in rivers and streams.

Ginger smelled the bear, snorted, and scooted forward, carrying Emma quickly along the trail.

Emma never knew what caused the mare to react. But she trusted Ginger’s instincts. One of her neighbors in the forest must have been nearby.

Last week on a warmer, sunny day, Emma saw what she thought was a greyish brown, short-haired dog with upright ears staring at them ahead on a trail. Emma heard the animal make several high pitched yips.

The creature hesitated, then with tail flowing in a relaxed arc it trotted away. Emma saw it was a coyote.

When Emma and Ginger approached the stream to cross it, a shout sounded over the running water.

Emma saw two shaggy-haired boys standing in the wavelets downstream, holding a fishing net and woven baskets.

“Look. Over there.” The taller boy tapped the other boy on the shoulder.

“Who’s that? What is she doing here?”

He dragged the net out of the water and scooped up several fish from it with a large woven willow reed basket. Richard and his brother, Edgar smiled.

 These would be good eating when they were roasted over the fireplace at their homestead a quarter mile away.

Their father and the six other children were probably sitting near the flames right now to stay warm in the cool, drizzly weather.

There was no other heat in their cabin. Hot tea from a pot in the fireplace, made from locally foraged herbs, would be waiting for Richard and Edgar when they got home.

They looked forward to a stew made from fìsh, local mushrooms, ground acorns and wild greens.

The distant figures waded over to the shore and began to climb and slide toward Emma.

Emma felt a shiver at meeting strangers so far from other people. She urged Ginger onward.

“Good girl. Come on. It’s ok. You can do it.” She spoke to Ginger with soft, encouraging tones, like a Mama cuddling her child.

Ginger stopped at the water’s edge, and skittered sideways, one front leg slipping on the wet grasses and mud. Emma lost her stirrups and fell forward, her arms around Ginger’s neck.

Shep the farm dog leaped to the side with a sudden bark.

The mare regained her footing, blowing loudly through her nostrils, lowering her head and sniffing. Emma let the mare stand, resting, both of them with their breathing slowing.

Upstream toward the mountains, Emma saw an eagle with a fish in its talons just above the waters. The bird’s wings flapped hard while the eagle gained height above the stream and rose into the air despite carrying the large, heavy fish.

Emma knew Ginger was used to picking her way along wilderness trails. But today the speed and strength of the winter’s rain flooding the stream created a loud rushing current.  

Ginger’s flight response was awakened, and her body tensed, ready to run.

“Easy, Ginger girl, we’re ok.”  

Emma’s feet picked up the stirrups and her legs squeezed to encourage the mare forward. Reaching forward with one hand, she stroked Ginger.

The mare’s ears flicked back and forth, frontward then backward. Emma saw Ginger was listening.

Persuaded by trust, the nervous horse kept going despite the roar of the bubbling water in the stream.

The red mare placed her hooves carefully on the smooth, round river stones and the moss waving in the water. 

Emma felt the impatience of her youthfulness rising and she impulsively urged Ginger onward. But the horse was unbalanced and moved too soon.

 Ginger’s hindquarters lost their footing, and she slipped with Emma into the icy mountain stream.

The approaching boys saw the water spray into the air while the horse and rider struggled.

Emma felt the water enfold her with numbing cold. Then she surfaced in the shallow stream. Ginger was splashing to her feet nearby. The saddle and saddle bags were soaked. Her wet clothing in the wind felt icy to Emma.

A hand grasped her shoulder and someone lifted her, carrying her to the bank of the stream. She saw a face with tangled, messy hair partly covering the eyes.

“Whoa there. You’re going to be alright,” a low voice said.

Emma was shaking with cold, her teeth clenched. One hand still held the tip of the reins and Ginger followed them to the shore. Shep trotted behind them and his eyes held a worried expression.

“Let’s take her home and let her warm by the fire,” said another voice.

Richard held the feather-light girl easily. She was mostly skin and bones.

“Put me down. I’m ok.” Emma’s voice was firm.

Her thoughts raced. “Don’t worry, Mama. I’ll get help.” Emma thought. She couldn’t let anything stop her.

“We live nearby. Come to our place. We’ve got a fire going. You can sit there to warm up and get dry.” Edgar’s voice was not as deep as his older brother, Richard.

“Ginger, here girl.” Emma stroked the mare’s forehead and neck.

The horse was dripping water and beginning to tremble from cold.

“I need to take care of my horse. Do you have a barn? A place we can dry her off?”

Emma felt numbness creeping into her limbs.

Richard said, “We can dry her off and put her inside with our horses. They can warm each other.”

“Go here. It’s this way,” Edgar said.

Later, with Ginger dry and eating hay in the barn, and Shep in the barn near her, eating his dinner too, Emma was sitting by a large fireplace that had a pot of hot stew steaming. 

She was wrapped in blankets and her clothes were hung near the fire to dry. 

Six other children from toddlers to teenagers gathered around Emma, Richard and Edgar. A man with brownish grey hair and a beard limped over, using a carved wooden cane made from a branch.

“Hello. I’m Albert. Accident,” he said, pointing to the cane. “It’s healing. I’ll be fine in awhile.”

“Tell me more, Emma. Where are you going?”

Emma related the tale of her family’s 1,000 mile journey of trains, wagons pulled by horses, riding and crossing water by boat.

She told him about the application for the homestead, the problems that occurred as winter was arriving, and the homestead fees due now.

She did not see Richard and Edgar’s children’s mother anywhere.

“I understand,” Albert said, when Emma paused. “Life out here is hard. But you can make it. Trying to start right before Winter hits is the toughest time. Once you get a year to prepare then next winter will be different.”

Emma looked around the cabin and the extensions that fanned out.

“We’ve been here a long time. Our winter supplies are good. Tomorrow I can go with Edgar back to your family with food and supplies."

"I’ve been through this before and someone helped me. Now I can help you.“

 In the early morning Emma helped them do the chores. Albert and his son Edgar left with the supplies for Emma’s family. Their horses were fresh and the two were back as the sun went down. 

They were not alone. Emma’s whole family was with them, riding double on their horses. 

That night Emma helped Richard with barn chores.

“You know, my own Mama passed away from a bad influenza last year. Papa does not like being alone so much,” said Richard.

Emma was quiet, waiting for him to go on.

But he did not say more.

That evening Emma’s mother, Alicia, made a delicious feast for everyone to share around the warm flames in the fireplace.

The children talked quietly, then slept wrapped in blankets near the fire.

Alicia and Albert sat on a bench nearby, speaking in low tones late into the early morning. It had been such a long time since each had someone else to share talking and listening. 

They were like starving people devouring a meal. 

For several days the two families foraged, fished, cooked, and shared chores. Days turned into a week.

The other horses ridden over by Emma’s family joined the group of Albert’s family horses in the barn and paddocks. 

After ten years at this homestead, Albert had built outbuildings and fences, and planted vegetable gardens.

The Willow Creek supplied fresh water and fish. The forest had many edible plants to forage. The trees provided timber for construction. A nearby mountain meadow was a grazing place for the horses and other animals.

Albert and Alicia went for walks together, leaning toward each other, speaking in hushed voices. Emma was left with many questions.

Alicia was impressed with how Albert took care of his children as a single father after his wife's passing. She thought he had developed his homestead well.

When Alicia looked into his eyes surrounded by his weather worn face, she sensed a straightforward, seasoned man who was reliable. He seemed to appreciate having her companionship and Alicia appreciated his too.

Albert felt losing his wife the year before left a painful emptyness and ache. He watched Alicia and her children. A new plan evolved in his mind.

He saw Alicia had grit and determination. Albert liked that.

Emma, Richard, Edgar and the other children explored the trails and thickets beneath the fir boughs surrounding the cabin and barns. 

Some of the trees were so old they had trunks as wide as an adult was tall. Their roots poked through the forest floor but also spread in their underground network.

“Sometimes I can almost hear the trees speaking to each other,” said Emma one day to Richard. 

He laughed. “They’re talking about us, too,” he said. "You should hear what they say about you." Emma laughed.

Each evening the group gathered around the fireplace, telling stories and drinking hot water flavored with forest herbs. Survival was hard but there was soft laughter around the fire.

One morning Albert said, “I’m riding with Alicia to the city. We’re going to take care of business that needs to be done."

"Richard and Edgar, Emma, watch your younger brothers and sisters. Keep the fire going. There are plenty of dried foods to use for another stew. Boys, you can take the net and baskets to bring more fish home.”

In the isolation of the wilderness in the 1890s coast things relationships grew fast sometimes.

Opportunities for marital partners could be rare for the many single men carving out homesteads there. 

Single women, especially with children, might find it hard to find reliable, trustworthy men, who would nurture a family and work hard on the homestead.

They needed to find men who were resisting urges to flee when times were tough or tales of gold in the Yukon or California beckoned.

Alicia could see Albert was a proven father and homesteader. Albert could see Alicia’s character and skills revealed by the homestead she was starting and by her children’s devotion to her.

In cases like this, a long courtship might not happen and the couples might marry quickly, feeling joyful to have a companion with whom to share the days

They knew love would grow and deepen over time, while they got to know each other through sharing challenges of survival.

A few days later the children heard horses coming through the forest trails.

Albert and Alicia met them with smiles.

“Children, we have an announcement. We’re married!”

That night Alicia and Albert explained they combined the families. They would combine the land too and farm it together.

Alicia’s homestead could be used for pasture and plantings in the Spring. Someday they hoped to add more homesteads until the two properties were joined.

That night Emma listened to the harp music of the wind singing through the willows.