A Month for Freyr: Alfheimr; Home

Things have been relatively calm, which is good, because I have not had it in me for very much stress. The amount of devotional things that I had wanted to do this month have been frequently put off because my health has been poor. I’ve substituted by spending more time with him at home, which has been easy due to the amount of rest my body has needed.

I know that with Loki, at least, people assume that everything is constant sex. I don’t know what people assume about spouses of Freyr, but it is also probably not as mundane as the truth can be.

He enjoys walking in the fields and the forests, the meadows, and visiting the streams, lakes, waterfalls, and rivers. This is much of what we do: we walk. The spirits of the places do not feel a need to take the form of anything, most of the time, or be visible in most traditional senses, but they are all very highly sentient and easy to feel. The places where the sun falls, where things are growing, have a feeling like a fat, happy cat laying in a sunbeam. They are well-satiated and feeling very glorious in the sun and with things on their surface growing so healthily and strong. The fields love him, and the meadows full of flowers and herbs and grasses do, too. Meadows are rather feminine, whereas fields are more masculine.

Forests have as many spirits as they do trees, it seems, though they do seem to have some that are in charge, for lack of a more appropriate term. Some of them are gruff, at least on the exterior, and suspicious of new people. But whether or not an ancient tree is looking upon me suspiciously, anything related to willows adores me. I’ve had saplings lean into my hands, and leaves rustle over my shoulders and arms. It’s very humbling, and charming at the same time.

Though it is seen as some sort of hippie foolishness, I have to wonder if there is, in fact, a very good reason to hug trees, and that is that they love people who connect with them, and express their love through touch, too. Trees on earth don’t have as much freedom of movement as trees elsewhere, so perhaps we should go to them, and lay our hands on them, embrace them, lean against them, and most of all, talk to them. It doesn’t have to be out loud; they’re perfectly capable of hearing what’s inside our heads, especially when directed toward them.

As much as it is a stereotype that elves love to live in forests, from Lord of the Rings to nearly any other story I can think of (excusing the drow of the Forgotten Realms D&D world, and so on), I can’t argue with it much: the alfar love the forests, and seem to choose them more than most other areas, though they live everywhere.

The water is as alive as anything else, and all of the stone. One of my favorite things to do is sit against a rock by a particular stream in a forest and listen to it, and the wind in the trees.

Around his home, there are many clear spaces for fields and though there are wooded areas, they are not forests, and so I’ve loved this traveling around we’ve done lately. Living in a city here, and being too ill to go the parks, it is such a gift.

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