Sitting and listening to the sheer livingness of an ancient forest.
Where the birdsong is a deep and meaningful lexicon.
The avian songs are rich with opportunity and warning.
All around it’s telling where the fox and hawk patrol.
From where hikers approach or even the onset of rain.
With staccato percussion acorns and beech mast fall to the floor, whilst leaves applaud the breath of the wind.
Cooling shade mixes with the perfume of leaf mould and rich brown sod.
As ever this is a coming home to familiar shores.