Back Posted on

THE WILD STORY

Ülle Voosalu 02.09–01.10.2019

The dream remains
encounter while swimming in the woods
meet a golden horned deer.
The dream remains.

I come from a family living in the middle of the woods. My father Evald was a third-generation forester. Happy person – heart at work – free as a bird. Even while working on the railway in Riga during the war, Dad was a daily visitor to the local zoo. Evaldi’s only and great holiday was Christmas. Then there was no hunting, but the forest did go. All the children were packed, the laan people had to be taken care of. The forage nurseries were filled with Christmas food. At the former ancestral farm, where only a few stubborn apple trees and piles of stones were left, jewelry and candles were lit on a spruce tree, food packages under the branches. So it’s still a real Laanerahva Christmas party. I don’t know about the animals, but the children were always happy. As a resident of Tallinn, I went with my son to bring food to the zoo’s forest nursery on Christmas Day. Oh luckily, we saw how the wild goat came to look at what was waiting for us. As an old man, my father went “gilding gold” whenever possible. Nowadays, meditating in the woods. The animals also ate nicely – they were not ashamed of anything. Old times and old paths and old people and happy memories. For 20 years now, my father has been staring at the starry forest.

And me finding a horn in the home forest I can think of it as golden for a golden timeless life or fortunately.
The dream remains.

Trees to hide as a deep secret,
which time will never disappoint.
And in the secret force it remains faith,
who spends his youth in the woods.
(A verse from the poem “Old Tracks” by Juhan Sütiste.)