The call of the open door
A smell reminiscent of forests and woods.
When I was young I used to spend as often as I could in the woods, or just in a tree.
Backing on to our home was a small coppice which had a dip in the middle with horses in it.
I always used to sneak away there when I didn't have to baby sit my siblings, or sometimes even when I did. The curse of having many younger brothers and sisters was that I invariably had to look after them.
I always had this need to spend some part of every day there. I used to ride bareback on the horses and just amble around this little space on them.
Then I would go and sit in a branch of a tree to read or daydream. My other, more enjoyable world.
When I grew up and became a young mother it became more of an urgency to be out of the house on my own for at least a small part of each day.
Even if it was up to the beach to watch the tides and not into the woods.
Being in nature helped stave off the horrors of my life. It put a barrier between my inner real me and the one who had to function daily.
My greatest joy now is to be in woodlands. Sadly no tree climbing or horse riding nowadays but a seat in the forest of greenery is coming home for me.
I listen to the murmur of the leaves above me, the bird song and the unknown rustlings.
It is a place of splendour, a place for being part of the glory that the Goddess gives freely to those who choose to share her beauty.
On this day at the beginning of October I reflect on all the trees I have shared sacred moments with. I will find the place of peace. Touch the spirit of the woodlands and be one with nature.
It is too precious to ignore. Sometimes we have to remember who we are and what we are part of.
The great mystery is there for all of us if we approach it with the respect it deserves.
The journey is well worth it.
The first touch of the crunchy leaves beneath your feet, or chair. The first tang of the mould and damp. The first soft fall of leaf on ground.