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There is a sound to the forest. It whispers to my soul. It speaks to me of an ancient earth nourishing the roots it holds, of birds chattering on gently swaying branches, each leaf telling me a story of a wisdom older than man. The endlessly flowing stream reminds me of the passage of time, carrying with it all the pains of the past, cleansing, purifying, healing. Rocks, older than time itself, encourage endurance and speak to me of staying strong and true to myself and my dreams.
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I took a walk. We’ve had some rain, you see. This was the first dry, sunny day. I found unexpected rivers in our country lanes.
The views were all gorgeous!
I do love gorse! The gorse here is, to me, symbolic of gutsy endurance, flowering and bringing sunshine to every view right through the dull grey (and sometimes white) winter.
The country lane eventually dwindled into a bramble-filled track that also showed signs of rain and snow melt ‘rivers’.
Roads leading off into the distance have always appealed to me. When they’re in a forest, they’re all the more special!
I think I’ve found the spot I’d love to build a home!
The walk back was as lovely as the walk up.
Even the stones were pretty and fascinating. That stone was half the size of my palm and each black spot is a teeny tiny mushroomy fungus thing :)
All in all, it was a delightful walk and just what this body and soul needed!
Needless to say, a walk on the ‘wild side’, for me, would not have been complete without an ‘incident’. I decided to take a short cut across a water-logged field coming home. Bad idea. Up to the ankles in slimy mud was my lesson-of-the-day. Short cuts aren’t always the right way to go.
