Meditating today, I found my mind calmer when I took myself back to the wood. Imagined the leaf-litter and the bark of trees - silvery-copper with lichen patches. Imagined the crunch of twigs underfoot and the soft sound of rain.
No eureka - the Japanese have always known that woods are soothing places. The soul finds solace in the subdued light and mainly subdued colours. But imagine the bliss if something as brilliant as a macaw flew through! How scarlet and turquoise, emerald and sapphire might take you up on wings of wonder to glide high in the canopy. Failing that, the peachy flame of the fungal flower and the real flames of the fire.
In the wood were some trees blown down by the storm - old ashes and I thought I saw an oak. Sycamores had been cut by the reserve officers and our job was to process the wood - leaving old established piles for habitat, burning much and piling the larger logs. It was full-on. But Di had brought flapjacks - a mince pie variant - baked by her daughter; Misha had brought mince pies and biscuits. We had hot drinks and the fire and the rain was sporadic and not heavy.
This week, I did not embarrass myself. Although, of course, I fell over.
This reserve runs around a reservoir - the reservoir I used to cross every day when I had my horses. Swans and geese, ducks and moorhens. In the woods, blackbirds and robins, wrens and crows and more so much more. Above, the kites wheeling on wide wings and calling their mournful, piercing call. It is close to home and yet once I get in and am working, I could be anywhere.
We talked a little about the people who like to work in a big group; the people who like to go it alone. I find myself in the middle. I like to talk. About my crows. My reading. I like to ask questions. About nature and about people's expertise - the former ER nurse, the former police officer, the former soldier. Other lives - and we wound up here - in the wood - with saws and loppers and gardening gloves! But I like to work close to one or two quiet others. I like to get on with it. I like to feel others working close by and to be part of something but not chit-chatting. I like to feel we are sharing, when we work, the work and the being and the doing, without the need for the saying and the describing, the discussing or the distracting. I like to feel like an animal. An animal with a saw and loppers and gardening gloves. With hot water and a fire. But an animal nonetheless.
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