Many, many years have passed since I lived here on this hilltop, since the hillfort glowed green and all about people knew it was a magic place. This church was built many hundreds of years after I lived here. People have come and gone, made their homes here, come here to raise families or graze their animals or celebrate special days or worship their gods. The oak forest has gone now – now, when you look down from the fort, you can see the city that has grown in its place, thousands of houses springing up instead of thousands of trees. My footprints on the earth have been covered by tarmac and pavements. But I walked here. And so did the wolves.
The wolves are long gone, too. The people who came after mine did not keep our promise to them. They hunted them until, finally, there were none left. But, it’s said, they might be returning to this land. Hundreds of years after there were none left, the time has come for the wolves to come back.
I wonder if they will ever come back here, to this place, to the green fort. Because this place will always be special. It will always be magical.
Take a moment before you leave to breathe in the air, to think how it feels to be on top of the world, as you are right now. Take a final rubbing of this church. And as you make your way back down, don’t forget, you are walking in the footprints of the wolves.
