Joseph L. Scavetti
The LEGEND of Shiloh Woods is a Fairy Tale of present times. It takes a fresh look at the inner workings of nature. Do Fairies and Elves really exist? How do seeds germinate? What is time, anyway?
Set in the Ozark Mountains, this fun and fanciful tale speaks to ecology and environmental issues. A primer of metaphysical truths, it is intended to be both enjoyable and informative.
Readers are encouraged to keep an open mind while exploring the possibility that in nature things are not as simple as they seem. --more exists than is obvious.
The central character is a free-lance writer who is selected to convey ecology issues to the human population. In preparation for this role, he is educated through hands-on experience and interaction with creatures he previously thought existed only in myths or dreams.
Work and dedication, however, are not without reward. He attains happiness when an impossible romance becomes a reality.
Joe Scavetti comes from a long line of storytellers. At an early age, he learned the importance of humor, surprise and timing in relating a good tale.
For the past twenty-five years, he has been a management consultant in human resources and employee relations. The woods have provided him that change-of-pace escape sought by the Chronicler in the LEGEND of Shiloh Woods.
Always active and involved, Joe Scavetti currently serves on his church board, as a district representative in the Masonic fraternity and as an officer of the Knights of St. Andrew. He was mayor of his community for a term and was, for several years, active in politics and scouting.
Native to the Ozark foothills, he has an affinity for forests, wildlife, mountains and streams. In his years as a Scoutmaster, he enjoyed observing the wonder and amazement experienced by city youngsters introduced to nature and the great outdoors.
Having an outgoing personality, typical of those born in Leo, Joe becomes the center of most groups. He is usually found telling jokes or making light of situations that have become too serious. Joe Scavetti believes life is worth living and tries to enjoy every minute of it.
He and his wife, Evelyn, currently reside in Edmond, Oklahoma, a suburb of Oklahoma City.
Worten had expected my response of utter astonishment. Words didn't come at first. I stuttered and I began one sentence three times before getting it out.
"Never have I seen anything this beautiful, never!" My words were hushed.
I felt like an altar boy from a country parish who had just walked into Notre Dame Cathedral.
Worten's face was split by a grin that showed his irregular teeth. He kept his eyes on me.
I was looking at thousands of moving lights reflecting and refracting through diamond clear stalagmites and stalactites.
The cavern was some two hundred feet from floor to ceiling. I tried to compare it to domed stadiums I had visited...the Superdome, Kingdome, Silver-dome...this interior was a large as any of those.
Our perch was about halfway up one wall...the floor some ten stories below and the ceiling equally as far above us.
Across the cavern, to our left, a waterfall cascaded into a small pool at the base of the wall. A clear, narrow stream spilled from the pool and wound around the near side of the cavern floor below us.
Faint splashing made by the water were the only sounds to be heard. The moving lights gave a glow to the entire room. The color was a soft white with just a hint of pink.
As my eyes adjusted to the glow, I saw form and shape in each small light.
"Aye, ye be right. These be the nature spirits a tha forest. Yew'll see Elves, Pixies and Fairies enterin' soon. Some yew'll kno as ole friends- frum yer last visit." The Caretaker was talking quietly- more than a whisper but not loudly.
He removed my hand from his belt. Worten chuckled at my embarrassment and sat on the edge of the path. I noticed this shelf began at the place we had entered and continued along the cavern wall until it disappeared in the faint light. It was six to ten feet wide most of the way.
I looked over the edge and saw two similar terraces below us. Feeling somewhat safe with our seats, I took my place next to Worten, dangling my feet over the edge.
From our right, a line of lights entered the chamber. In single file, they proceeded slowly along the far side and around the room counterclockwise. I counted over two hundred but then lost count as well as interest in counting.
These new lights had a soft blue tint. They gathered in a group near the center of the room after making a complete circuit.
"Wood Nymphs." Worten answered my unspoken question without speaking.
From the left came another parade of lights. Their contribution to the overall glow was a pale green. Following the reverse pattern of their predecessors, they circled clockwise and assembled near the Wood Nymphs.
"Water Sprites."
For what must have been hours, lights appeared in parade file. Some entered two abreast others in single file. Each group brought their distinctive color and gathered in a particular area. The cavern grew brighter with the added presence of each spirit.
I didn't grow tired of watching. The moving lights held me spellbound like the hypnotic dance of waves against a beach or flames in a fireplace.
