. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
“Memories of Forests and Growing Small” is a (very) short tune I wrote in a similar spirit that I often start with when taking photographs; to focus, steady myself and try to capture something of the moment just as it is at that time. I hope it brings you the peace of the forest!
.
.
.
I’ve had too much time indoors these past few weeks, so this week I’ve been more out and about.
I’d been eyeing this pathway for a long while, wanting to explore it. Driving past yesterday, I had to stop.
It was spectacular – blurs and lines of gold, grey and green, air and honey. Apple juice.
Leaf mould, twig, light and star shaped moss.
Crackles that make you jump and turn. Breath a little high in your body. Whispers.
Music, everywhere.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
On Saturday, towards early evening, the skies began to clear. The first moment of sun after a month of rain – oh so sweet. Suddenly all was open, and we needed to get out. We drove a few moments from the house and stopped to wander along the lanes.
The light was melting to honey and the air was cool, in a tentative Summer evening way. I walked and wrapped my scarf around my shoulders, looking, breathing. Then, through and into these lonely trees, a moment stopped, the air filled with crackled silence and pine, leaf and camomile..a mysterious lost place to feel close to creatures, they rustled, crept and flew unseen..eerie magic..
When you see the sun, you see the shade..here was both, and ground as dry as dry – only a memory of rain..
.
.
.
.
