Above the lane a blue clearing leads towards the woodlands.
When I was a girl growing up on a beach sand paths led through rock pools as the tide drew in clear amongst the weaving bladder wracks: this is how the sky appears.
Tarmac is storm pitted like bad teeth. Off road mulched: storm chippings.
Boots crunch: like sand. Boots sink: wet sand.
Hear the river waves, how they curl over rock beds. Under the spread of the woods; freshwater damp, dappled, pale bright buds, ground cover leaf, dark earth trail, sallow slash of snapped branch… this pushed over tree: the roots rise, drag fine soil out of the slate ground, flattened in profile, a wall of undertree: like the underwater: another world.
This earth path winds around up out of the woods, returns to the clearing in the clouded sky.
Sun paints: red gold on a smiling face.
|Photos are of an older split tree- forgot my camera today!|