Entranced at the Entrance

Entrance—entranced. How close those words are. One day I stood at the opening of a bracken tunnel in the woods, spellbound by it’s shadowy interior, not moving, not speaking, not thinking, just seeing.  Everything came down to that entrance and everything around it became soft-focus. I stared for a second, or perhaps, I stared for an hour. The thing happened where time was distorted and I had no purchase in the solid world.

the liminaut bracken tunnel

When I finally left the woods I found that, instead of the 45 min or so that I thought I had been gone, I was gone for three hours. Did I spend that entire time staring at a fern-lined hole in the earth? I don’t even know. Old fairy tales are full of accounts of mortals falling into the land of the Good People and thinking they had only been there for a day—only to find when they returned to their own world that hundreds of years had gone by. Contemporary science fiction (and even scientific theory) is full of stories of worm holes and time travel where the passage of time is warped and incredible things can happen. These days, much is made of the state of “flow” where a person is engaged in something they are deeply interested in, or feel a great affinity for, and the concept of the passage of time ceases to exist. Do we speak to the gods and spirits in these timeless, shifting spaces? We are entranced by them at the entrance to their world. And sometimes, we enter.

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