The Hidden Doorway: Franke Park’s Magical Tree and the Realm of the Faerie
7 Jul, 2024
Franke Park’s quiet woodlands have always whispered secrets, especially in the colder months when the underbrush thins and ancient trees reveal their twisting shapes. Just past the Franke Park Pond Pavilion and near the calm waters of Shoaff Lake, you might notice a curious clearing—a place where the air feels heavier, and the forest floor seems impossibly soft underfoot. Local hikers call it the “Hollow,” but those who truly know the park’s stories claim something far older is at work among these trees.
The legend speaks of a gnarled oak at the edge of the west loop, not far from where the trail curves close to the lake’s edge. On misty mornings, when the sun rises low over the water, a faint shimmer appears at the base of this ancient tree. To find it, start at the pavilion, then follow the Franke Park W Loop until you catch the first clear glimpse of Shoaff Lake through the branches. Listen for the sudden hush—a stillness that seems to press in on all sides—and look for an unusually smooth patch of bark, just above a knotted root.
It’s said that touching the bark with your left hand while whispering a wish will cause a faint outline of a door to emerge, rippling like water against the wood. If you knock three times, the door opens silently, revealing a narrow, spiraling passage lined with roots and silver-green moss. The tunnel slopes downward, cool and damp, the scent of wild violets and earth all around. Stepping through, the light shifts: golden and unsteady, as if filtered through a thousand wings.
Inside the faerie realm, the forest is stranger—trees arch impossibly high, their leaves humming with hidden energy, and distant laughter echoes just beyond sight. The air glows with drifting lights, and every path seems to lead somewhere new. Pools of water reflect scenes that cannot be real: old friends waving, lost memories flickering by. Time here is unreliable; an hour may pass in a heartbeat, or a day may feel like mere moments.
But the faerie woods are not without danger. Wander too far from the entrance, and the trails twist, looping back on themselves until you’re hopelessly lost. Some say there are guardians—shapes that move at the edge of vision, eyes that gleam from hollows in ancient trunks. If you hear bells or distant music, resist the urge to follow; many who do are never seen again, at least not in this world.
If you wish to return, keep a piece of iron in your pocket and never let the tree’s doorway out of sight for long. The faerie realm is beautiful, but it does not easily let go of visitors. Should you find your way back to Franke Park, the world will seem just a bit brighter—and perhaps you’ll carry a little of the magic with you. But remember: the tree is not always there, and the door opens only for those who truly believe.