To become reacquainted with ones personal ecology is like meeting a dear friend.
With permission, I move through familiar groves, well remembered stones and past brother trees.
The alder offers a branch for carving and sitting in the midst of the wildness, a bowl or perhaps a noggin appears from the burl.
There is no hurry towards a non existent and unknowable future.
Rather there is only the sound of knife on wood, the movement of wind through hair, and the feeling of hands tired with the labour of the land.
Photo courtesy of the author.