Dunmore Woods

 

 

13th March 2018

Trees in sunlight

Under a three forked tree, wind blows through the noisy caw of crows.

They seem to own the woods here.

Trees of great height and fallen, filtered sunlight, daffodils and bark littered ground.

 

I want to walk through the woods but I’m on my own and not sure whether to take the risk. What if……..

Sitting on a bench just inside the turnstile gate allows for pause and reflection. Behind me, emerging daffodils grow in circles around palm trees. Beyond the low brick wall overlooking the lower village, there is a clear view of the beach and surrounding cliffs. I watch a small child at the waters edge, she dares the tide to stop at her feet, watching intently as it almost does. Gulls fly swiftly past. A grey container ship moves slowly out to open sea. In between gathering grey clouds, the sun warms my winter-pale face.

Walkers with children enter through the turnstile. There is safety in numbers and so I allow them five minutes or so to go ahead before following at a reasonable distance. Tall trees on either side of the path are aware of my touch on their rough bark. They watch and listen as I acknowledge their presence in my heart. Amongst the decay of fallen trees, hundreds of daffodils, buds not yet evident, line the edges of the path. Clumps of tiny white bell shaped flowers stand proud above the bracken. The music of the woods is tuning up for spring, new life sprung from the old.

Sophia Said – 2

Forest keep

Wisdom is realising what monuments of your life are worth restoring,
and what needs rest.

Thresholds

Old buildings are incredibly interesting, the lives they contained, the changes, the eventual giving way to natural processes of decay, mosses, lichens, nesting grooves for all kinds of animals, and there are those not built to last, will never age with grace and beauty.

Beginnings and endings. The open door-the closed-the locked. Was it a purposeful decision or allowed to occur without permission. Life has a way of repeating various scenes, acts, places, reaping the same response from habits formed. Other doors are available, other ways of being, doing.

But I like the one I already have, you might say, it’s  comfortable, and I’ve just bought a new chair to sit in. See how well it fits me.

Stop. Look closer……you look so much better standing up, your body is leaner, fluid, movement propels you into action.  I know what you’re thinking, I told you so, isn’t that it, how many times have I told you to change what you’re doing. I know, I know, but you didn’t understand, it wasn’t just about the chair, the comfort, the routine, it was an essential stage of life, propelling me further than it looked from the outside, even more than I could realise. In hindsight, I see how much editing there was, always striving to find a better way, a better word, a better life.
Life is a great teacher and I say thank you to all those monuments, some are still very beautiful. Am I ok with letting others go ? Well, I know how to swim, maybe I could swim better.

I was inspired to write about thresholds today after listening to the words and music on platosgroove.com it really gave my morning a kick-start, listen in.

This is the second post in response to the 5 day photo/story challenge from suedreamwalker – take a look at her Healing Wood posts.
If you want to have a go, the rules are-‘Post a photo each day for five consecutive days and attach a story to the photo. It can be fiction or non-fiction, a poem or a short paragraph and each day nominate another blogger for the challenge.

I am nominating Trini at pathsofthespirit

Alchemy

Shape shifting

Water,

rippled in the breeze,

curled edges running quickly to sharp sand,

changing the shape

of this strand,

where bare white crabs

sleep in shallow,

sun-warmed,

salty pools,

where flesh pink shells glisten

like jewels and

raucous sea-gulls

swoon

in a summer-blue sky.

Where Oyster Catchers ride the tide

inches above foam crested waves that break,

the way they always do.

My shadow, cast on seaweed covered rocks, will change, and change, and change.

Welcome home said the sea.

In the muddied mix of life, my footprints finding a trough of fertile silt.

~ ~ ~

Shape Shifting © 2014 Teri Flynn @ Masked Native

The Song Of You

The Song Of You
The Song Of You

Rushing to the shore,

the tide follows our footprints, 

tracing the pattern of lives filled with memories of

YOU 

And I am grateful. Grateful for your  life.

Grateful to have shared some of it, but more than this,

grateful that you are more than a memory,

you are the song of the Universe.

The song of

YOU 

FOR EVERYONE