When I was a little girl, one of my favourite places was the bush across the road, the place I called the forest. I was really not supposed to go there, because it was part of the town golf course, but I loved the forest. There were bird's nest and mosses and smells that amazed me. I would cart home some of these things and make houses for fairies and put them under my bed. Then the next day I would check the placement of 'stuff' and was sure the fairies had come.
The forest is where I am most drawn. The tall trees that sing in the wind, dancing to the primordial rhythms since time, communicating with the Earth through their roots and communicating with each other through their vibrations…I love that. I feel as though I am part of those vibrations when I am standing there with my arms raised, singing with the trees. I don't go to the forest in the winter…just look at it and admire it. The snow can be hard to walk through. One winter, when I still had the beautiful rough collies before the highway took them, Anna was missing and I walked through the forest at midnight looking for her, in December in the snow. It was hard and I cried when I was on the way home, because I could not find Anna and the snow was so difficult.
Today the sun was casting a golden hue on the tree tops, painting them gold with their diamond capped snows. It was rather breathtaking and I felt I might have known what Robert Frost felt when he stopped by the woods on a snowy evening, so long ago. Breathtaking, really. Isn't it?
The forest is where I am most drawn. The tall trees that sing in the wind, dancing to the primordial rhythms since time, communicating with the Earth through their roots and communicating with each other through their vibrations…I love that. I feel as though I am part of those vibrations when I am standing there with my arms raised, singing with the trees. I don't go to the forest in the winter…just look at it and admire it. The snow can be hard to walk through. One winter, when I still had the beautiful rough collies before the highway took them, Anna was missing and I walked through the forest at midnight looking for her, in December in the snow. It was hard and I cried when I was on the way home, because I could not find Anna and the snow was so difficult.
Today the sun was casting a golden hue on the tree tops, painting them gold with their diamond capped snows. It was rather breathtaking and I felt I might have known what Robert Frost felt when he stopped by the woods on a snowy evening, so long ago. Breathtaking, really. Isn't it?
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