Bridget and Stillwater drove toward the swamp to enact Stillwater's plan. But Bridget had other plans. She passed the swamp and went to a clear lake down the road. She took a blanket, her cigarettes and lighter and a jar of violet gin she made and had been saving for a special occassion.
"Let's go," Bridget said to an obviously annoyed Stillwater.
Bridget walked softly through the prairie grass and laid out the blanket about 20 feet from the shore. She sat down and listened. She felt eyes on her multiply, but this time they were soft and curious. She broke a cigarette in half and poured the tobacco onto the Earth and lit a second one for herself. She thanked the Earth, she welcomed the spirits that had joined her. She opened the jar of violet gin, spilled some on the ground next to her and took a small sip herself. She introduced herself and Stillwater. At this point Stillwater was onboard and offered to translate any messages the spirits had for Bridget.
Bridget laid down, the tall grass tickling her cheek. She hear owls hooting, the wind blowing, crows cawing, frogs croaking… and Stillwater spoke their meanings to Bridget. "You are afraid to receive because you feel that then you owe something. But that is not how this works. You can receive because you are alive. You don't have to earn anything here. Put out your hands and receive." Stillwater translated. Bridget held her hands out when voices broke through. Laughing, banging, not intentionally malicious, but teenagers enjoying an evening at the lake. Bridget tried to remain quiet and contemplative. She struggled, now whispering under her breath instead of speaking aloud. "This is what happens," she explained. "Every time I try to connect with spirit, I am interrupted by voices, by others who aren't trying to be destructive, but are. It is frustrating."
Stillwater called upon winds to blow, upon eyes to watch them, so that they would feel unwelcomed here. The wind picked up, sticky and heavy. There was a rustling in the prairie behind the kids, as the eyes of a fox gazed upon them. They gathered their belongings and left.
Bridget thanked Stillwater and the spirits of the forest. She then played a song and said, "I don't have an ancestral connection with the land. I wish I did. I don't have oral history about my homeland, but I have this song. I don't know what it means, but it speaks to me. And when I feel lost I listen to it and it offers me support. She smoked another cigarette as the song played, took a sip of the violet gin and poured the rest out as an offering. She thanked the spirits, picked up her blanket and walked back to her car. A fox crossed her path as she pulled out of the park.