Agnes and The Deer

An Ostara Nordic Tale

Photo by max pruvost on Unsplash

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This post is part of The Natural Way series and The Nordic Chamber, a nod to my ancestors and a celebration of Ostara (Spring Equinox). A special edition of The Natural Way Podcast with Goddess Freya and Mother Earth will be released tomorrow.

Whilst I’m not quite ready to return from my sacred pause I can feel my lifeforce restoring, which is a relief, so hopefully it won’t be too long. I would say that the healing through Goddess Freya and the spirit of Mother Earth helped enormously, so I wish the same restorative blessing for you.

Agnes lived in a beautiful Nordic Valley with her mother and father. Their log cabin was cosy and warm with a huge log fire, hand crafted wooden furniture, rugs and woven blankets carefully passed down for generations.

Their cabin was surrounded by magnificent mountains that rose majestically through the clouds and the lakes at the bottom were a aquamarine blue from the glaciers that melted in the spring and summer. There were gushing waterfalls that created rainbows of colour as their power surged through the cracks and crevices of the ancient rocks and hillsides to emerge crystal clear and drinkable in a babbling stream running alongside the cabin.

In the spring the soft spongy grass was filled with bright yellow flowers that Agnes would run through brushing her hands through, which would release a heady scent of sunshine.

In the winter she would walk across the lake with her father and hear the creaking of the ice underfoot, looking down and seeing the bubbles of the resting fish and the odd branch or weed as it slowly meandered its way under the surface.

Agnes and her parents were mostly self sufficient. The nearest town was several miles away, so visits were few and far between. They had a few cows and sheep, grew vegetables and got meat from the deer and moose that tracked up and down the valley.

One day Agnes was out where she had been collecting water in a large pail, when she looked up and saw a young deer paused just a few yards away. For a moment they both looked at each other and Agnes felt time stand still as she could hear the gentle, but rapid heartbeat of the deer and the twitch of its black, shiny nose as it sniffed her on the breeze. In the next second the deer had vanished into the woods, into shelter and Agnes made her way back home.

Another time Agnes was writing in her diary when she sensed something and looked up out of the window and saw the deer just at the edge of the field where the cows were grazing. She couldn’t be sure it was the same one, but she felt that same suspension of time and space. Then it was gone again.

Over the next few days, which stretched into months wherever Agnes went the deer seemed to follow, walking through the gorge, picking vegetables, milking the cow, washing her face in the stream. It didn’t come any nearer, but it didn’t seem to fear her either. She was worried that her father would find it an easy target for hunting, but it never seemed to be around when he was.

She liked to stop by the stream, look up at the mountains and imagine her ancestors looking down on her. One day Agnes was collecting firewood at one of her favourite spots by the waterfall.

It was a bright clear day, not a cloud in the sky and she was singing an old traditional song as she went about her task:

This is the land of my ancestors, they surround me with their love.

They are here to lend me their knowledge, their voices echo through my blood.

I hear them in the mountains, I hear them in the stream, I hear them in the trees that sway, I hear them in me.

I will toil this land for them, I will tend to their cattle, I will make their bread and cheese, I will let them know that they still matter.

I take only what is needed, I take only what will do. I leave the rest for Mother Earth, she takes care of me, she takes care of you.

I tend to your crops, I put food on the table, I send you my love, I ask for your help when I am not able.

When I leave this place, I will rejoice that we are reunited. I feel your hand on my shoulder, I feel supported and guided.

On this day of Spring, I share your blessings and hope, that this valley stays this way for many generations to come.

For this is home and to here I must return.

As the day was also warm, Agnes took a walk into the forest glade and as she walked and enjoyed the cool shade, she was soon lost in thought and found herself deep into the forest. Not looking where she was going, she stumbled and fell. She immediately cried out as she felt a snap and a sharp pain and fell to the ground. She knew she had done something serious. She was out of shouting distance of the log cabin and as she’d fell she’d caught herself between two tree stumps, so was now also stuck.

She yelled anyway, but she was pretty convinced that no-one was going to hear her. She tried not to panic, slowed down her breathing and lay back for a minute to think. The pain in her leg made it difficult, but once the shock wore off, she found herself drifting in and out of consciousness. The later it got, the more she felt more asleep, than awake.

In her dreamlike state she could sense shapes around her that came in and out of focus. She was sure there was a moose, then a stag, then the deer that had come to visit her so frequently. She knew she was hallucinating when a small mouse came and gave her some berries and a raven emptied its beak of water into the side of her mouth. She was vaguely aware that she no longer felt hungry or thirsty.

When she next looked down there was a squirrel and a rabbit holding moss onto her leg and tying bits of split either side with long strands of grass. She felt that the pain had reduced to a dull ache.

Finally having seen enough imaginary theatrics for one day and just wanting to rest for a few minutes more, Agnes closed her eyes. Now in her dreams she was aware of being gently dragged, rhythmically if occasionally haphazardly. She had a vague thought of wandering where she was going in her dream, it felt so familiar, but she knew, of course, that she was trapped and hoped that her family would start searching for her in the morning, as it was definitely nighttime. She drifted into a deeper sleep with the gentle swishing of the movement side to side and the occasional grunt as she was jolted over a rough patch.

Agnes could hear voices and wandered if the animals in her dreams had now started to talk. They were calling her name repeatedly. As she struggled to open her eyes, she was being closely watched by the faces of her mother and father. “Agnes!” her mother shrieked. We were so worried”. Confused and a little lightheaded, Agnes tried to sit up, but her mother pushed her gently back down on to the makeshift stretcher.

“I was in the forest, how did I get here?” “Where are they” her parents asked looking anxiously around. “The people that brought you here, we must thank them.” “I don’t know”, said Agnes feeling more and more confused. “I didn’t see”.

“They saved your life Agnes, they put healing moss on your injury and kept you leg still, they left you food and water, they must have carried you here by stretcher, knowing we would find you here”.

“Yes” said Agnes feeling more and more bewildered, “they must have”.

Agnes was taken to the hospital where her leg was put into a cast and she was allowed home after a few days. The journey to the hospital had been long and she felt tired from the shock of her accident. She took to her bed to rest, but she was soon tossing and turning with a fever and she remained delirious for a few days, finally breaking the fever, but left feeling weak.

Eventually, she could get up, but took very tentative steps with the aid of a makeshift walking stick. “You must eat” said her father. “To gain your strength”. Her mother had prepared her a hearty stew and after a few days and more warming bowls of broth, she was soon feeling restored and ready to take a few wobbly steps outside.

She lifted her face to the sun and stood outside the log cabin breathing in the fresh mountain air. At the side of the cabin where her father worked she found a deerskin drying and a set of bones waiting to be carved into knifes and needles and used for more bone broth.

Agnes made a small gasping noise as she knew immediately that this was her deer, the deer that had visited so many times. She was about to cry out when she heard the spirit of the deer say “we give ourselves as you give you and your ancestors give to this land and to us. We have a sacred place to be happy, we wish you the same and we preserve you to preserve us for future generations. It’s what Mother Earth wishes, it’s what she wishes for all humanity that we may live in harmony once again.”

Agnes let the tears fall and watched as each gentle drop fell to the ground. She rubbed the deer skin against her cheek and let the sweet memories of her special friend be happy ones.

Each day Agnes grew stronger until she felt ready to go back into the forest. She found the site of her accident and once again she wondered how on earth she had been rescued. She laid out offerings of berries, seeds, eggs, flowers and honey on the ground creating an altar. She closed her eyes and blessed Mother Earth and her ancestors for helping her to heal and sending help.

When she opened her eyes she was surrounded by animals. The moose, the rabbit, the hedgehog and others who she suspected had a hand in her rescue. Then out the corner of her eyes she spotted a small fawn, which must have been only a few days old. Not daring to move, Agnes made eye contact with the deer and it twitched its nose in that familiar way. As Agnes backed quietly out of the forest, she was so happy, she was so peaceful and she was so grateful that this place was her home.

Blessings of Spring & Ostara.

Louise x

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