a walk in the woods

I close my eyes and I absorb all the smells and sounds as they slip in through the open window. The smell of the morning dew and last nights rain that mixes with the fresh smell of the pine needles that lie on the floor outside.  Birds singing their song to greet the day and the trees gently rustling in the wind reach my ears.  My hand reaches down and feels for the cold metal and lifts it allowing the door to swing open.

God I hate the ordinary world. The world where we hustle and bustle along our way, and struggle and kick to make a living, stealing and cheating our way to our own little plot in a cemetery The smells from the cars that invade my nostrils everyday, the people that no longer care about others.  What has happened I wonder?  Where has all the beauty gone, so many cities, to much concrete, to many cars, and the people rushing around not caring, not seeing and not loving?

As my mind clears of all the junk my eyes fall upon hundreds of bluebells that look like an amazing sea of blue, moving softly in the wind like waves lapping gently on a beach. Each one seems to be smiling at me letting me know how safe it is here. I spy a path that winds through the bluebells, a path that would take me deeper into the wood, my feet carrying me forward through the sea of blue towards the haven ahead of me.

The bluebells give way to a floor strewn with pine needles and the trees grow denser as I move deeper into the wood. I find myself in a clearing and as I look around for the path that has disappeared from beneath my feet my senses feel as if they are being assaulted all at once by my surroundings.  I sit down on a moss covered log to take in everything around me.  Running my hand around my mount, caressing the moss with my fingers, smooth and sensual like velvet. I feel myself unwinding as I let myself be taken over by my surroundings. I feel as if I am drowning in pleasure as my body soaks up all the new smells and sounds around me.

I rise from my place on the soft log and walk to over to the trees, as I walk, the ground beneath me crunches as I step on the pine needles. As I reach the trees I place my hand on one of them and feel the rough bark under my fingers, I move my hand down its surface, feeling every bump that has taken many years to get to this wrinkled stage. As I stroke it the bark gives way in places to reveal a whole new world to my eyes, tiny little insects scurrying around not noticing I was there just getting on with their lives.  I watch them as they run around gathering food and materials, and I think how much like modern city life they are, all rushing around doing their jobs but instead of not seeing anyone else and working for them selves they work as one large family all with the same purpose. As they work and scurry a larger insect comes along the little ones scatter but there are a few who don’t make it and provide the larger insect with food, such is life.

I look down to the bottom of the tree and see another very different world, a world where the sun does not reach where not even the rain has disturbed. It looks as if it has been there for a millennium and never been disturbed.  I sit on one of the thick old roots of the tree and stick up from the ground.  The roots look like fingers stretching out from the tree digging and searching for something. Down here amongst the rotting foliage life continues regardless of what is happening else where in the wood insects of many different types scurry around taking food and material back to their nest avoiding the predators that would snatch them away in one swoop.  The smell down here is a different one from the others I have so far smelt.  It smells like death as the leaves die where they have fallen and the insects that have not been eaten lie dead and decaying, yet it is still not an unpleasant smell. It makes me think of how much good what is going on down here does for the tree and the animals around it. It is all part of the circle of life.


I lean back against the tree and close my eyes letting my mind only accept what is around me, continuing to shut out the real world and all of my problems.  I can smell the air, so fresh, clear and pure, no cars to pollute it here. Next I smell the freshness of the wood of the trees and the fragrance of the damp grass. Oh how I love that smell, just as if the world is new and glistening.  A noise startles me and I open my eyes just in time to see the fluffy tail of a rabbit disappearing into the wood I am sure that it was as startled as I was. I look up and I can see the shafts of sunlight that are bursting through the trees, like tiny fingers trying to touch the ground beneath.  There is a slight breeze and the leaves gently rustle and move like fairies dancing on the wind. As some of them fall they float down to the ground like a boat on a clam sea, a fairy boat maybe.  Birds are sitting high up in the trees singing and talking to each other. I close my eyes and listen to their song, a beautiful chorus of happiness and joy to greet the world and share the beauty of this wonderful place with everyone who will listen. Occasionally they fly away, the peace disturbed by their wings, which sound like a million fans all being used at once

As I move my gaze downwards from the tops of the trees I notice how each tree is different in how they look and move and when I think how long those trees have stood in that same spot I think that compared to some of them I am so very young. They are so solid, so strong and safe. As they protect the world that lives below them and the new trees that stand next to them stretching and growing so they to can see the light. I look around at all that is beautiful in this clearing, life as it should be, undisturbed, but I know I have to face the real world and get back to my life in the rat race being a number not a person.  How can I bear to leave this place, this is mother nature at her best, amongst what seems to be disorder and chaos is a world that exists only here, peaceful and happy. This place is an assault course for the senses, they all clamour at once to do what they do best, to see, to touch, to hear and yes to taste.  The air here tastes different too, as if you can taste the fresh air.  I breathe in deeply filling my lungs with this beautiful place, not just with the air but with the smells and the sights. It is as if I am cleansing myself of all the bad things, like getting rid of the dirt and starting again getting back to nature.

As I wander back to the log to feel the smoothness of the moss once more before I go, to etch it in my memory for ever. I walk around the clearing touching the trees letting my fingers run gently over the roughness of the bark. I look up again at the trees towering above my head the light still peeping through the gaps and the leaves that are now rustling harder and the noise getting louder as the wind picks up. The trees seem to object to be woken from their sleep by this sudden increase in the strength of the wind, the branches waving like arms, the leaves being their voices. As I close my eyes for one last time to let the smell fill of the pine needles, grass, dew fill my senses. I feel the first drop of rain touch my face and gently running down my check like a tear.

The path suddenly appears out of nowhere to lead my back though the trees and the sea of blue. I walk slowly, the rain starting to come down heavier, hitting my hair and my face and running down my neck inside my clothes and the wind whistles through the trees. My face carries a secret smile, my mind full of the beauty that I have just seen. I reach the car soaking wet and I get in and close the door but I can’t go, not yet.

I close my eyes once more making sure that the smells, feelings and pictures are still there and I open them to watch the sight in front of me as the trees battle against the wind and the rain, rain which is hitting the roof of the car with a sound like someone banging together symbols.  As I turn the key I smile that secret smile to myself, I have found my haven away from the rat race, and I know that I will return