Sunday, 31 March 2013

The Forest of Zen

Tall trees surround me and a road cuts through and past me.  The road isn’t paved, it’s dirt.  It looks like it’s an old carriage-way. It disappears into the distance; into the fog of the chilly morning.  But I’m feeling as still as the forest trees around me.  They reach for the sky with their bare branches and trunks naked to the air around them; and the fern surrounds them hiding the moist, fertile soil.
All I can hear is the dripping of the dew from the night before coming off the leaves and onto the ground.  Its sound is almost deafening amongst the silence of the nakedly-clad forest.  The air is clean, wet and pure and I feel as though I don’t need to move from my spot.

I feel very peaceful.

I could stay here for a long time and not have to move.

This place is a sheer joy to be in as my mind doesn’t have to think about anything outside of here; and this is good.  There’s no computers to consider.  I can’t hear any highway traffic.  No sirens, nobody else shouting and no interference of any kind… it’s wonderful.  My mind can settle down, be quiet and let go of stress.

I like this.  It’s lovely.

I wish I could stay here longer.

Birds sing and echo off each other in the distance amongst the fog as the sun clears the surrounding mountains.  I look up at the sky and it’s changed from the apricot hue of the sunrise to a light baby blue of early morning.  Soon, the fog will lift and I’ll see the forest for what it really is.  I’ll stay here until it does.
And slowly, the low cloud – as that’s what fog really is – shifts slowly away, revealing the forest’s rich green colours.  The starkness of the trees as they appear like sentinels reaching high up to the sky from this one area, asking  and wanting help – praying for it  - and yet stuck that way until the Gods give it to them.  And it seems they didn’t get it; as they are like this now, kneeling in rows like humans in Nature’s church praying for all to be good with Gaia.
The fern of the undergrowth – looking like many plants, but really it’s one plant spread over a large distance acting like ground cover – gives off a gorgeous rich green hues mixed with reds, yellows and other lovely colours; looking like an impressionist’s painting but on Mother Nature’s canvas. 

I now wish I had brought a canvas, paints and easel with me.
There’s always something I wish for when I venture into these places, and never bring with me when I arrive.

On closer inspection, these trees are lined up in corridors so that they line up with each other, to curve away into the distance from me.  As the fog finally clears completely, I find this forest seems to go on forever.  I love how it all has a beautiful, ghostly feel to it. 
But I’m not spooked – why would I be? It’s such a pretty place in its own way.  And seeing I don’t wish to leave, I might just walk over to one of the trees with very little ground cover surrounding the bottom of it and sit for a while.

Taking in the loveliness of this place as the day wears on.

Breathe in the fresh alpine air while I listen to nothing.
Know in my heart that I can come back here whenever I want… but also know that I can’t stay because it’s not a place I can readily come to all the time. 
This is something I hate, something I despise about this place; not being able to come back here; well not physically. 
At least I know there’s a place where the air is fresh, there’s no horrible outside noise and I can listen to nature at its very best…