… sometimes stop me.
I notice today the soft mossy delight of this branch. I could have gone straight on under it, bent and stumbling through the mud to carry on but I stopped.
Stopped to admire.
The beauty; stopped to feel the soft moss, the strength of this obstruction, so firmly across my path and realised it was a place to rest and that I really needed to stop.
I climbed up.
To discover an elevated view with soft strong handholds from which old limbs protruded like cattle horns, stripped, shrunken and gnarled.
A view to a field full of meadow sweet, woods beyond, beneath a blue sky. Brambles beneath me and the torn earth revealing the roots of this fallen giant oak on which I sit.
The air is warm and still and the light buzz of insects zooms in and out of the bird song which steadily rises around me as I become a more familiar, less threatening part of their world.
Here in the moment, kept company by a light cloud, resting in the sky. feet on a branch, seat on another almost airborne – elevated.
Below me the Enchanter’s nightshade waved it’s magic flowered wands from the forest floor and a rare jewel of glowing golden orange on the edge of a bramble leaf catches my eye – an alchemy of sun and snail trail.
An invitation from the forest to rest and be held in her healing magic for a while.
