Story and Photography Submission to Enchanted Living Magazine
To say that I am elated that I have achieved one of my dreams of being featured in a magazine of Enchanted Living’s caliber is an understatement. I am still in awe that they not only published the photos I submitted but also my first short story. The inspiration behind my submission to the theme of “Vintage Witch” came from the stories I have read and heard about the Granny Witches of Appalachia. Choosing a location for this shoot was a breeze because my dear friend and colleague Debbie had just purchased a unique home near me in Waynesville, NC. Her home and The Farm at Sweet Basil Life is the original homestead of the Welch Family from the 1890s. I cannot thank her enough for allowing me to create this shoot there and being a creative soul sister to me. Below are other Creative Sisters who helped make this opportunity come to life! Continue exploring below to see the whole photoshoot and the beginning of the story.
But to enjoy this project appropriately, be sure to preorder your copy of Enchanted Living’s Autumn 2022 Issue Vintage Witch!
Location/Set Design: The Farm at Sweet Basil Life with Debbie Whichard
Costume/Gown Design: White Knight Cosplay with Sybil and Dakota Todd (Learn more about how I met Sybil here!)
Models: Sybil Todd, Morgan Ferguson, Anna Sorrells, and Debbie Whichard
Hair and Makeup: Fab Flawless Hair and Makeup Artistry with Sheri Gaffney and Alyssa Brewer
Check Out Our Behind the Scenes Video!
“I hope they’re home,” Eliza whispered to herself as she walked down the mountain’s well-worn path to the drover’s road ahead. The light was fading into embers above the tree canopy on the north side of the ridge, but she wasn’t worried. The sun’s last rays would guide her to the witch’s home on the valley floor. Clutching her shawl tighter around her, she quickened her steps.
An hour later, she saw the large white house on the next hill. It was massive and sprawled across the lawn, just like her sister told her it would be. Eliza paused and murmured to herself, “You’ve come this far. There is no need to stop now.”
“I hope they’re home,” Eliza whispered to herself as she walked down the mountain’s well-worn path to the drover’s road ahead. The light was fading into embers above the tree canopy on the north side of the ridge, but she wasn’t worried. The sun’s last rays would guide her to the witch’s home on the valley floor. Clutching her shawl tighter around her, she quickened her steps.
An hour later, she saw the large white house on the next hill. It was massive and sprawled across the lawn, just like her sister told her it would be. Eliza paused and murmured to herself, “You’ve come this far. There is no need to stop now.”
Eliza played with the tattered edges of her late grandmother’s shawl, feeling embarrassed by how simple her clothing looked. This woman was clothed in such finery! Feeling intimidated but determined, she looked at the mysterious woman and asked, “Are you Anna?”
“No, but she is here. What business do you have with her?”
“I require a love charm,” she said. At least she sounded confident, even if she didn’t quite feel it yet.
“And who told you that we provide such baubles?” the woman snapped. “You should get back up on the ridge you came from, foolish girl.” The woman turned to open the door and usher her back into the encroaching darkness.
Practically shouting, Eliza said, “My sister Rena did!”
Turning, the woman replied, “Rena? From up on the Balsams?”
“Yes, she said that you could help me and that I should ask for Anna.”
“You must be Sylvia’s youngest daughter then. Hmmm.” She walked past Eliza, and the scent of herbs and lemon filled her nose. Eliza had not seen a lemon in almost two years and her mouth watered. How could this woman afford lemons?
“Come on, then!” The woman’s stern voice broke through Eliza’s thoughts and beckoned her forward.
The floors creaked as they turned down a hall, and darkness seeped through the floorboards and cracks like a palpable smoke. Yet she could see candlelight flickering in the room at the end of the hall and hear people laughing. Her heart began to race, and she wondered if the woman could hear it.
The woman opened the door, and the sound of laughter barraged her already fragile senses. Motioning to a blond young woman, she said, “Anna, here is another one.” Then she moved behind a table full of more things than Eliza had once seen in the general store in Waynesville when she was eight.
Her mother had taken her and her sister to the booming logging town to buy a mirror. Eliza had never heard of a mirror before, but neighbors talked about them. When they made it to the general store, Sylvia gave her a penny and sent her to the candy counter. When she walked up to the glass containers, she was mesmerized by the vibrant colors. There were so many hues that she didn’t know existed until they presented themselves to her at that moment. Each piece shone in the window and glittered as light danced across its surface. It reminded Eliza of the multicolor quartz stones she would find in the streambed on hot summer days when she was wading.
“This one will do,” her mother had said across the store, and the man behind the counter began to wrap something up in paper. Rena was giggling and standing on her tiptoes.
“I guess every young girl needs a mirror to admire herself with, don’t they?” the clerk asked. “How old are you?”
“Thirteen. I just turned thirteen last week!” Rena replied.
“Well, enjoy it. Would you like me to put this on your husband’s account?” he asked Sylvia as he pulled out his ledger.
“No, I will pay for it now.” And she handed the clerk her change purse full of coins. To Eliza, it seemed like he took forever to count them all.
“There you are, three cents back to you,” the man said as he pushed the coins back to her mother.
“Go ahead and let Eliza choose three more pieces of candy, please.”
Walking to the counter where Eliza stood, he said, “I would be delighted to.” He showed her the side of the counter she could choose from, and she considered each piece as if they were rare treasures.
That evening as they climbed back up the mountain trail to their farmstead, Eliza listened to her mother and Rena chatting. “Rena, don’t have this out when your father is home. Do you hear me? I have been saving for it a long time from my needlework earnings. And we’re lucky he went to visit his ailing aunt this week, or else I would not have been able to come down to the town.”
“Yes, Mama, I know.” Rena was bubbling over with excitement. “Do you think I’ll be able to see my true love with this? I just need to lean over the well and hold it up to see his reflection, right?”
“Perhaps,” her mother said dismissively. But Eliza saw her smile as Rena ran ahead, singing the ballad about Sweet William and his lover to the treetops.
“Mama, what’s a mirror?” Eliza had asked when she slowed down to let her catch up.
“It’s a tool you can use to see yourself like the reflection you see in a bowl of water, but only clearer.”
Puzzled, she asked, “How will Rena see her lover if it only shows a reflection?”
Laughing to herself, Sylvia said, “I will show you when you turn thirteen, Eliza, I promise.”
That had been eleven years ago, but Sylvia had died of pneumonia the following winter.
Glancing up above the hearth now, Eliza noticed a mirror there too, but it was larger than the one her sister had held in her hands years ago. She shook herself to shed the memory before looking at the new woman standing in front of her.
“Are you cold?” the pale-haired woman asked. This must be Anna, Eliza thought. She wore a blood-red coat and dress with a spiderweb of black over the bustle.
“No, just a little nervous, I guess.”
Anna smiled, turned, and looked over her shoulder to another woman with long red hair and said, “What do you see, Morgan?”
Morgan laughed with a voice that sounded like tinkling bells drifting on the wind. “A water nymph crying by a stream. Her raven-haired warrior comes from the west to escort her journey above the falls with a wild potato in his hand.”
“Ladies! Can’t you see you are scaring her?” The voice came from the corner of the room, and Eliza jumped. “Stop being so peculiar and find out why she is here.” Eliza had forgotten that Rena said four witches lived in this house. “Come here and have a seat. Would you like something to eat or drink?”
Sitting on the settee, she relaxed in this witch’s presence. Her dress was as purple as the wild violets that showed their faces at the beginning of each spring. Laying her book down, she said, “I’m Sybil. What’s your name?”
“It’s Eliza, after my grandmother.”
“Well, Eliza, why have you come down to visit us tonight? Oh wait, Morgan, fetch her some tea from the kettle in the kitchen.” Morgan stood and left the room.
“I have come for help, you see. It’s about a man.”
“I hope they’re home,” Eliza whispered to herself as she walked down the mountain’s well-worn path to the drover’s road ahead. The light was fading into embers above the tree canopy on the north side of the ridge, but she wasn’t worried. The sun’s last rays would guide her to the witch’s home on the valley floor. Clutching her shawl tighter around her, she quickened her steps.
An hour later, she saw the large white house on the next hill. It was massive and sprawled across the lawn, just like her sister told her it would be. Eliza paused and murmured to herself, “You’ve come this far. There is no need to stop now.”
She crept to the door and softly knocked. She didn’t hear anything, and just as she was about to turn away, the door opened. The woman standing there was dressed in some of the most stunning fabrics Eliza had ever seen. Her gown was jet black, just like her hair, but the blue framed in the middle was what struck Eliza the most. It was the color of the rolling mountain ranges encompassing the valley, reminding her of the Balsam ridge she had descended from.
The woman curtly nodded her head and stepped aside to let Eliza in without saying a word. Swallowing hard and mustering courage to shroud her heart, she took a deep breath and walked across the threshold; after all, she was here for Larkin.
Eliza played with the tattered edges of her late grandmother’s shawl, feeling embarrassed by how simple her clothing looked. This woman was clothed in such finery! Feeling intimidated but determined, she looked at the mysterious woman and asked, “Are you Anna?”
“No, but she is here. What business do you have with her?”
“I require a love charm,” she said. At least she sounded confident, even if she didn’t quite feel it yet.
“And who told you that we provide such baubles?” the woman snapped. “You should get back up on the ridge you came from, foolish girl.” The woman turned to open the door and usher her back into the encroaching darkness.
Practically shouting, Eliza said, “My sister Rena did!”
Turning, the woman replied, “Rena? From up on the Balsams?”
“Yes, she said that you could help me and that I should ask for Anna.”
“You must be Sylvia’s youngest daughter then. Hmmm.” She walked past Eliza, and the scent of herbs and lemon filled her nose. Eliza had not seen a lemon in almost two years and her mouth watered. How could this woman afford lemons?
“Come on, then!” The woman’s stern voice broke through Eliza’s thoughts and beckoned her forward.
The floors creaked as they turned down a hall, and darkness seeped through the floorboards and cracks like a palpable smoke. Yet she could see candlelight flickering in the room at the end of the hall and hear people laughing. Her heart began to race, and she wondered if the woman could hear it.
The woman opened the door, and the sound of laughter barraged her already fragile senses. Motioning to a blond young woman, she said, “Anna, here is another one.” Then she moved behind a table full of more things than Eliza had once seen in the general store in Waynesville when she was eight.
Her mother had taken her and her sister to the booming logging town to buy a mirror. Eliza had never heard of a mirror before, but neighbors talked about them. When they made it to the general store, Sylvia gave her a penny and sent her to the candy counter. When she walked up to the glass containers, she was mesmerized by the vibrant colors. There were so many hues that she didn’t know existed until they presented themselves to her at that moment.
Each piece shone in the window and glittered as light danced across its surface. It reminded Eliza of the multicolor quartz stones she would find in the streambed on hot summer days when she was wading.
“This one will do,” her mother had said across the store, and the man behind the counter began to wrap something up in paper. Rena was giggling and standing on her tiptoes.
“I guess every young girl needs a mirror to admire herself with, don’t they?” the clerk asked. “How old are you?”
“Thirteen. I just turned thirteen last week!” Rena replied.
“No, I will pay for it now.” And she handed the clerk her change purse full of coins. To Eliza, it seemed like he took forever to count them all.
“There you are, three cents back to you,” the man said as he pushed the coins back to her mother.
“Go ahead and let Eliza choose three more pieces of candy, please.”
Walking to the counter where Eliza stood, he said, “I would be delighted to.” He showed her the side of the counter she could choose from, and she considered each piece as if they were rare treasures.
That evening as they climbed back up the mountain trail to their farmstead, Eliza listened to her mother and Rena chatting. “Rena, don’t have this out when your father is home. Do you hear me? I have been saving for it a long time from my needlework earnings. And we’re lucky he went to visit his ailing aunt this week, or else I would not have been able to come down to the town.”
“Yes, Mama, I know.” Rena was bubbling over with excitement. “Do you think I’ll be able to see my true love with this? I just need to lean over the well and hold it up to see his reflection, right?”
“Perhaps,” her mother said dismissively. But Eliza saw her smile as Rena ran ahead, singing the ballad about Sweet William and his lover to the treetops.
“Mama, what’s a mirror?” Eliza had asked when she slowed down to let her catch up.
“It’s a tool you can use to see yourself like the reflection you see in a bowl of water, but only clearer.”
Puzzled, she asked, “How will Rena see her lover if it only shows a reflection?”
Laughing to herself, Sylvia said, “I will show you when you turn thirteen, Eliza, I promise.”
That had been eleven years ago, but Sylvia had died of pneumonia the following winter.
Glancing up above the hearth now, Eliza noticed a mirror there too, but it was larger than the one her sister had held in her hands years ago. She shook herself to shed the memory before looking at the new woman standing in front of her.