The Sapling and the Owl: A Tale of the Wheel of the Year

In the heart of Olympia's ancient forests, as the balance of light and dark teetered on the edge of the equinox, a tiny sapling named Willow shivered beneath the vast sky. The grip of winter still clung to the earth, and though she yearned for the sun’s warmth, her fragile limbs struggled to stretch toward the heavens.

Luna the Owl

One evening, as the silver moon cast dappled light through the trees, an old owl named Luna perched on a nearby branch, her eyes shimmering like the morning dew. A guardian of the forest, Luna had witnessed the sacred turning of the seasons countless times. She saw Willow’s longing and, with the wisdom of the ages, spoke.

“Little one,” Luna hooted softly, “do not despair. The path of the sun is a great spiral, not a straight road. In this world, there are times of darkness and times of light, and each holds its own gift. You must root yourself in the rhythms of the earth and trust the sacred cycle of life.”

Willow trembled, uncertain. “But the cold is so long, and I feel so small. What if the sun forgets me?”

Luna chuckled gently. “The earth never forgets. At the time of Imbolc, we feel the first stirrings of life begin beneath the frost. It is a time of awakening, of quiet preparation. Even the grandest oak once stood as you do now, waiting through the darkness. Trust the cycle, for the Wheel of the Year always turns.”

Willow listened, and as the equinox arrived, she felt a shift within her. She understood that winter was not a punishment but a time of rest. The long nights allowed her roots to delve deeper into the nourishing earth, strengthening her for the coming warmth. She learned that just as the forest animals honored the turning of the Wheel—hibernating or resting in winter, returning in spring—she, too, was part of nature’s dance.

With the festival of Spring Equinox, when light and dark stood in perfect harmony, Willow felt the first kiss of warmth on her tender leaves. Encouraged by Luna’s wisdom, she stretched her arms higher, embracing the lengthening days. The gentle rain of Beltane washed over her, feeding her growth, and by the summer solstice, she stood proud, basking in the golden radiance of the longest day. She had learned patience, trust, and resilience.

As the Wheel continued to turn and the autumn equinox, approached once more, Willow no longer feared the coming dark. She watched the leaves of elder trees turn gold and crimson, knowing that their fall was not an end, but part of the cycle. When Samhain whispered through the branches, she honored the lessons of the past, embracing the stillness before the Wheel began again.

And so, through each season, Willow grew—her roots deep in the earth, her branches reaching for the sky. She became a living testament to the wisdom of the land, a reminder that every winter holds the promise of spring, and that within the great spiral of life, all things find their time to bloom.

Luna watched over her, proud, as the sapling who once feared the cold now stood as a beacon of hope—a whisper of renewal in the sacred turning of the year. - by Karin Olsen