After several weeks, the news traveled to some of the nearby villages about the “witch in the woods,” who was teaching children and revealing nature’s ''hidden'' secrets.


    Somewhat skeptical, somewhat curious — everybody had seen some change in those few children who visited me.


    Their walk down the path was different, knowing eyes shone with wonder.


    One balmy Sunday in the summer is when I first learned about this fresh physician on the scene.


    Lily and I were out back by the herb garden, she was eager to learn everything she could about what medication came from each plant that Grandma used.


    “Miss Hazel,” Lily said, her fingers digging into the black earth around a marigold, “did you hear about that new doctor? My mama says he’s from a faraway city.


    This got an eyebrow raised out of me. “Is that so? I suppose he better get ready for ranch livin''. City living is a distant memory around here."


    I had no idea, and I mean NO. IDEA.. how that new arrival would affect my peaceful little life in the forest to a new dedepthI met Dr. James Thornton some days afterward.


    I was in town exchanging some of my herbal remedies with the general store when a tall, fine-looking man came walking.


    He had a well-groomed head of salt-and-pepper hair, and the cut of his clothes was plain but urban.


    I caught his eye across the store and I swear for a second I felt that old feeling.


    Curiosity, perhaps. Or maybe something more.


    He stepped forward, hand extended — “Hazel? “Can’t say I haven’t heard about you."


    He had a very firm handshake, I thought; “Positive I hope,” I intentionally quipped with a knowing smile.


    He laughed, and he was a rich laugh that seemed to fill the tiny shop. “Mostly good, yes." I can''t imagine why some people think you’re a witch. They''re often more brooding by nature."


    I couldn’t help but laugh. “Mmm, once again; well, I will let you be the judge of that.”


    And from that moment on, Dr. Thornton–James insisted I address him by this name–became a regular visitor at my cabin in the woods.


    Initially, he came through his job as if to discuss how I used herbs, pretending it was some kind of curiosity for professional know-how.


    But as time went on, it was obvious that he was also interested in the non-medicinal aspects of life.


    One night, I invited him to my cottage as we sat on the porch watching the fireflies twinkle in harmony with twilight, James turned towards me and I saw a turned mind over his face.


    ‘Hazel,’ he said, his voice small. ‘I need to tell you something I Had no illusions of grandeur when I arrived in this town. But your role with this forest is making talk around in these hills. Do you know what they think of you?"


    Something in my chest skipped a beat, and it was an emotion I remembered having rarely felt. “And why’s that, James?” I said, trying not to make my voice shake.


    He took my hand carefully “I think you know why.”


    The forest seemingly held its breath around us, the common sounds of night fading into noise no more.


    I was almost young again, back when I came to these woods with an easy heart and open eyes.


    But reality quickly set in. Ripping my hand back, I stood up. James, I…I dunno if this is a well-thought-out move "This is my life in the forest of my ancestors. You live in a town with your patients — We’re from different worlds and your considerate words don''t touch me so.”


    James also stood up, never breaking eye contact with mine. “Hazel, don’t you see? Which is why this is one of a kind. You have such a wealth of knowledge, but some people don''t listen to old tales. They rely on science now, and even my medicine has left behind the old harder ways."


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    I turned my head from him to the shadowed forest. I could almost hear the voice of my mother floating on that wind, telling me to open up.


    But it was fear that stopped me — the fear of changing my core and the terror of losing Irene''s presence in these woods.


    Finally, I turned to him and muttered. “I just need some time James,” I can not take this lightly, but I will always stay in these trees. I will always impart my wisdom, through books or through the years I have left."


    He smiled and nodded as if he didn''t know just what I was seeing. “Of course. I’ll wait, Hazel. However long it takes to come around. Just know, people talk...”


    I sat on my porch that night after he left… and by alone, I mean without the whispers.


    The forest groaned with stormy winds blowin'' in but I couldn''t hear their gossip tonight, some of the sounds were still peaceful, others defiant it seemed.


    The following day whilst giving ole'' Lily a lesson on how to name the birds from their bird calls, I could not help but think about my teachings. The smart young woman watching me closely could tell there was more on my mind.


    Over your shoulder, and say, “Miss Hazel,” her voice jolting me out of my daydreams. You seem... different.”


    She smiled at me, worried by my intent. “I’m fine, dear. I was uh…just having some thoughts, you know? about a few possible changes to things."


    Lily’s eyes grew very big. “What kind of changes?”


    I hesitated, over how best to explain it. Er… well, sometimes life gives us fresh beginnings for a reason. We need to decide will do beneath them or stick with the 1 that is familiar.


    She nodded as she got it. “Is this about Dr. Thornton?” she asked innocently.


    I couldn’t help but laugh. “With all your brains and smarts, you’re way ahead of the game.


    As the day progressed, my thoughts wandered increasingly to James.


    The way his eyes sneered slightly when he looked at me, the gentle hands as he felt patient, and how seriously he didn''t take my advice were all things I alone had to consider.


    So the sunset developed against the dark, fast-moving clouds, and I made up my mind. The next day I was going to town and looking for James.


    It was time to write the next chapter in my life, one that would maybe fix problems between worlds. The forest needed to breathe on its own. Perhaps I could take a step back or two.


    The woods around me let out what felt like a sigh, feeling as if my soul was making a mistake.


    And somewhere, in the rustle of a breeze through bright leaves — I swear it sounded like my mother laughing at me too as only she can with her troubled past ancestors.


    Even the trudge into town felt like anything, as I was lost in my decision.


    As I strode to James'' clinic, he was hunching more than their work desk struggling with some forms, the eyebrow asking yourself throughout the attention. After a few moments of that, & there I was hesitating again, old doubts sneaking back in. And then, he glanced up at me and his face immediately lit with a big smile.


    I exhaled loudly and got ready for what came next. — James, I was thinking about what you said. About bridging our worlds. “Because I...I want to try and become different."


    The joy that lit up his face, felt want the sun breaking a single last of clouds.


    He took my hands, covering them delicately. And now the concluding sentence, “Hazel — you want to learn better ways than that old forest?"


    I was looking at James and saw him differently for a moment. His weary brow and aging blonde hair made him look like the townsfolk of old before the move to the Virginia Woods.


    I could see him purer part of him.


    I stood there silent, but there was a ruckus erupting outside.


    “Doctor! Doctor Thornton!” a man called out. “It’s my son, Tommy. He becomes sick, and no matter what we try it won’t work!


    James went professional in a heartbeat but the fear was there.


    “What are his symptoms?”


    I followed James to the house, still needing some excitement after this quiet morning.


    At home, Mrs. Thompson had a fever and chills, along with an odd rash that seemed to erupt overnight.


    When we entered the dark chamber in the back of a bakery where Tommy lay, I saw at once what to me appeared as symptoms more like those associated with any one of several rare woodland maladies that are encountered only on occasion through an entire span of life.


    I touched his arm, “James…” “This is something I think I''ve seen.”


    He looked at me, with the question mark already in his eyes even though he would always trust what I had to say. “What do you need?”


    I looked into his eyes, "We need certain plants, and by God, I will help all I can.


    James and I stayed with Tommy as the searchers went off into the woods doing what we could do to keep him comfortable.


    After what seemed like hours, the search parties came back with all that was needed of ingredients.


    I suggested a poultice for the rash on Tommy and some tea to bring down his fever. As we entered the night, he was put to bed claiming to be feeling better.


    It was in those quiet hours that James and I sat, side by side, talking about everything ranging from books to abuse.


    We talked about our pasts, what we wanted in life, and where we were from. I explained to him about my mother, and how the lights had come down for her.


    All of the tales he told about city life and being summoned to this one-horse town.


    Tommy’s fever finally broke just as dawn started to break. The rash faded a little, the color returning to his cheeks.


    There was a collective sigh of relief in the room, and Mrs. Thompson hugged us both as tears streamed down her face.


    Even when we were thinking about the future, I somehow never forgot my past.


    Nightly, I would still walk through the forest and hear more distant whispers in the trees — my mother’s spirit speaking to me — Jane telling her story long after she had left.


    “Are you watching, Mama?” I would whisper to the stars. “Do you like where I am going now?”