THE SOUL OF SIX ACRE WOOD.



The wood like me is half awake
and not yet plugged in to the day
so that when it awakens
it wakes slower than you or I

The first flush of movement has ceased
and the early risers are now safely back
in their holes, nests or burrows
as the butterflies begin their nettledance
visiting all in the vicinity
and as the early morning sunshine
strikes the leaves
the wood shudders...
It is a physical, a tangible thing I can feel...
as if the wood has made it safely
through the night
and is just now flexing it's muscles
for the new day.

While we listen to the local residents
bickering in the topmost branches
the wood creaks and cracks and groans
coming slowly to life
waking from slumbering torpor
the sun dappling it's leaves
and the gnats and midges vie
for their first victim of the day.