In Celtic belief, the forest was alive — every tree a spirit, every rustle a voice. The Dryads were guardians of these groves: beings born with the tree, breathing as it grew, and vanishing when it fell. To harm a sacred oak or ash was to wound the soul that lived within it. Some say, if you stand still long enough in an ancient wood, the wind will carry their whispers to you. #echoesofmyths #celticfolklore #dryads #mythology #fblifestyle | Echoes of Myths
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In Celtic belief, the forest was alive — every tree a spirit, every rustle a voice. The Dryads were guardians of these groves: beings born with the tree, breathing as it grew, and vanishing when it fell. To harm a sacred oak or ash was to wound the soul that lived within it. Some say, if you stand still long enough in an ancient wood, the wind will carry their whispers to you. #echoesofmyths #celticfolklore #dryads #mythology #fblifestyle | Echoes of Myths
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