The Gypsy's cottage lay at the edge of the forest, where wild herbs and brambles formed a dense maze among ancient oaks, pines and twisted hawthornes.
A mossy cobblestone path meandered through patches of green and gray foliage, while surrounding the herbs, more familiar blossoms of rainbow hues nodded gently in the rose~scented breeze.
A wooden bucket swings in the stone well, which was amply gaurded against contamination by the deeply carved stars and spirals surrounding it.
A dragon, one clawed paw raised, flew above the house, twisting with the wind as it rode a wrought~iron arrow. The weathervane guided the enchantress living in the cottage in matters ranging from timing spells to divining the future.
Inside the iron~wrapped door, the cottage was warm, inviting~laden with exotic scents and the hum of beneficent forces.
Above the door, a horseshoe nailed with points upward allowed only good to enter the home. Across the room, pungent herbs to be used later in potions and brews hung drying from the rafters while roots lay close to the chimney.
In each room and corner of the cottage, magic abounds. Food was blessed before cooking, beds were situated East-to-West, a broom lay on the floor before the door, a bag of herbs hung from the chair on a red cord. No part of the Gypsy's cottage was left unblessed or unguarded by the wonders of magic.
Life within the home was by its nature arcane. A student of magic, the woman who owned the house saw magic at work in her life, from rising with the Sun until fallling exhausted after a day of spinning and weaving, cooking, herb harvesting, cleaning, contemplating, blessing and spell casting. That's the magic of Gypsy Hollow...
{scott cunningham}.
