F

Escaping.
Sometimes when the sky's blue enough to drink and its hot enough to be
able to lift your arms above your head without shivering, I like to go
there.
Just to be alone, for a while at least.
The grass is green there, not like any green I've ever known. This is
real green, the kind a child uses for the grass whilst painting, thick
and heavy and consistent.
Then there's the tree's, always whispering and towering high above me.
They are always there, like a comfort blanket they caress me safe in he
knowledge this place will never change.
The river? Yes the waters almost clear, pure enough to drink I'd say.
Cool, and calm chattering away in its own immune language. Its not
threatened by destruction, its here to stay.
Often I just like to run my fingers over the lacy roughness of the
trees bark, allowing myself to savor the feeling. Sometimes I press to
hard or let my fingers linger too long and collect a whole family of
splinters.
Moving, softly or swiftly with the wind helps to sooth my pounding
thoughts. Standing still even motionless next to a wind hugged tree
sends shivers down my body and a feeling of calmness so great washes
over me like a soft balm. Soothing my sore thoughts and chapped
emotions that seem so blissfully insignificant now.
Of course there are animals, from the spiders and beetles to majestic
birds and clumsy foxes.
Sometimes when the sky's blue enough to drink and its hot enough to be
able to lift your arms above your head without shivering, I like to go
there.
But mostly the sky's black enough to eat and its almost impossible to
lift your arms above your head without being blown away first.