into the woodland,

Good morning to my plate of blueberries,
At last, I've visited dreamland, and through the night, I slept.

My favorite place of wool gathering, pipe dreaming, and escaping is beneath the woody forest.  It is here where I travel when I feel withdrawn. It is here where stillness and harmony mingle. The only sounds are those of the wild birds.  Beside the plants, my heart attaches to my feet, and all of day's aches are swallowed by the forest.   One hour in the forest brings more merriment than 3 days below city lights. I cannot tell whether the may tree will bear or not, but I can tell you it's worth more than firewood.

When I dream of landscapes, and dwellings for my future home. I do not fancy a home built by prairie winds, and canola fields. Instead, I dream of a place beside the cherry wood, and the wild bird's nestling.  I imagine a belly growing from food, and baby seeds. I think of baby breath on my back while I watch trees bend in the breeze.  I close my eyes sometimes, and pretend I'm locked between a dogwood tree, and a stream. Sometimes, when I'm bathing, I pretend I'm bathing in muddy waters. Sometimes, when I'm snacking on the blueberry, I pretend I've got buckets of them, freshly plucked from earth's garden.  Sometimes, I wish I could grow fur, and grow wild in the forest. It's a shame the indoor world, and the world of faces, can't always be as golden as the woodland. 

"By reading Huckleberry Finn I felt I was able to justify my act of going into the mountain forest at night and sleeping among the trees with a sense of security which I could never find indoors."

The woodland is my church. I do not follow the way of books, or prayer. It's a nice thing if you can find religion, or spirituality through teachings, but for me,  I find god in the way of the woods.  The sound of the stream, the dance of the woodpecker, the shadows casted by branches.  This is the kingdom where animals roam, where wild flowers decorate the sunken moss, where age draws faces into the wild bark. If you hadn't told me heaven comes after my parting, I'd say I've already been there, when I've visited the woodland.

 The sky has been spirited. Like new born love, and the budding on trees are turning into leaves. Baby flowers are breaking through the dirt.  Spring is dressing it's sweater on the meadows, and roof tops, heating our homes and our bellies.   When the weather is warm, I want to retire from paper writings, and spend the hours tinting pale skin. (I don't want to spook anyone into thinking I'm a ghost..)

The babbling brook was crooked, and the traveling water sounded like lullabies. So much beauty, I could have wept in it.....

This hidden forest is 2 minutes away from my bed. You just have to follow the trail, pictured here, and you'll find yourself being fed by the magic woods.  This particular pine land is in a hole beneath the earth. Everywhere above resembles suburbia and city life.
Pictured Here is my Woodpecker friend. He came to compose drum beats in the oak tree,  and make happy brain feelings for me and my best friend. Thank you Carter for spending the light of day in shaded woods.

one must ask children and birds how cherries and strawberries taste.   hugs and wishes for warm weather, wherever you are. x

what i wore

pink blouse- good will thrift $4
floral skirt- vintage/ value village $5
hat- jessica simpson $20

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