Bridging the Lethe

notes from November 2231 AD


Ancient legends speak of the River Lethe, crossed by departing souls.  The waters of the Lethe wash away memory, allowing for spiritual rebirth, reincarnation, a return to the world in new form.


This memory implant represents a bridge over the Lethe.

Footbridge over Enfield CreekFor those chosen to cross over to the new land in return for

Sycamore Grove

their treasure, lives and selves.

Sycamore Grove


This virtual monoculture glade from the long time of forests,

Sycamore Grove

a place of happy gatherings, of families, plentiful food and water.

Sycamore Grove

These sycamores grew over centuries, through thousands of days, wider than 10 people,


white with age as the outer covering, called bark, falls away.


forked, trunks

Sycamore Trunk

climbing to the sky.

Sycamore Sky
Copyright 2022 Michael Stephen Wills All Rights Reserved

33 thoughts on “Bridging the Lethe

  1. Thank you Michael for this beautiful gallery of photos. Being a tree lover I am really relishing these
    You give the whole post such peace with the introduction about Lethe and the photo of the river.
    / miriam

    Liked by 2 people

      1. May be that there are not so many written traditions from these times like the Edda or Tacitus’ Germania. But for the socalled Germanic tribes it is very well researched that their temples were just places in forests and also the magical moors in the era 2,000 years ago. There to be found holy groves and trees no longer existing and destroyed.

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  2. You nailed the fiction. I really enjoyed it, and the photos to match. Brilliant! The pictures are beautiful. Looking forward to see if you continue with fiction.

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  3. The last two photos are very striking. I enjoyed how you wove fiction in between the images. A poetic journey into an ancient legend flowing through time. The first two photos add to the sense of bridging layers of a soul’s existence. Wonderful post, Michael. ❤

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Sycamore trees are wonderful. I didn’t appreciate them when I was growing up on Long Island, but I’ve made up for that in recent years in central Texas, where sycamores readily spring up alongside our Hill Country creeks.

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