After work bimble through the woods

 My work is constantly stressing me out, and thusly I am always grateful for the ability to just hitch the bus afterwards and just disappear into the thicket. The woods keep me sane, even if a passers- by would maybe not exactly agree;-). I just took my pack, and, taking off the shirt and the tie, taking off my shoes to feel the earth, I ventured into a valley that has a rare quality: It is a deep crevice in the ground, crossed by few hiking paths, and silent and solitary. Seldom do I meet Humans there, and if this is the case, those few are of a better quality. It is a realm where the fairy tales still thrive and prosper apart from the mayhem that is our so - called everyday life.

 The woods are full of roe and sika deer, wild rams, wild pigs, owls, buzzards, of hare and fox and predators. Their tracks are everywhere, and I tread carefully and respectfully when I cross them.

 Those are the halls most beloved to my heart, better than a king´s palace are the pillars of the trees, vibrant with bird songs and the breeze in the soft treetops.

 Over wood and stone and yonder hill I tread and listen to the maagical song of the water.

 Got resin? I took some home for concoctions, for treating wood and illness alike.

 Across the runes written by the tracks of deer and ram, of hare and fox, that tell wild and wayward stories of the hunt and the feast.

 The sun was shining, and in the distance I heard some rustling noises, and, carefully not to make too much noise myself, I threaded along the creek.

Under those green, green leaves I walked, breathing the balsamic air.

 Everywhere where the unmistakable signs of wildlife.

 Everywhere there were the sounds of a life alien  to modern man, a life that is great enough for me to be a part of, a thread in a web weaved by  a gentle hand that needs no names and no agnition, but mere existence.

 Into the hazel grove I went...

 ...drew out a circle, and had a cuppa woods;-).

 Yummy...

 All too soon the hours had passed.

 Across paths seldom trodden that felt like I trod the stairs of time I went back into the world.

And at the frontier... where the veil is thinner...


colour.