Vila SpiderHawk

Suddenly I felt alone by the fire, naked and primal, as if time and place had evaporated and, deposited in a prehistoric wilderness, I was staring in awe at an event that had already repeated itself countless times before my birth, an event that would occur countless times again for millennia after my death. Grand Mama had been sixty-three when she’d died. I’d thought that was ancient at the time. I couldn’t imagine being that old. But that moment when I watched the sun come over the hill I understood how short the human lifespan is, how myopic our vision has to be, given how little we’re allowed to see in a single life. I felt fragile and humbled, almost endangered, not like a goddess at all.

Excerpt from Forest Song: Finding Home by Vila SpiderHawk pp 183-184

Everything smelled as sweet as baby hair, as if the Sun Herself had a different odor than She did in the land of snow. And there was music hanging like snowflakes in the air. From the tall plants that glistened on the plain there came a song that sounded like little bones that someone was rubbing together. And from above came other melodies, songs as sweet as forgiveness. These sounds, she discovered, came from winged animals that flew through the clouds and rested in the trees. Some of the flying creatures were as blue as a newborn’s eyes while others were sunrise red. Some were whiter than boiled bone and as fat as a woman with child.

Excerpt from Hidden Passages: Tales to Honor the Crones by Vila SpiderHawk p. 171

Vila SpiderHawk lives in the woods of Pennsylvania with her husband, their six cats, and their many woodland friends.

SpiderHawk is a gourmet Vegan cook, and an avid gardener.