Updated: Feb 9
It took a nice meal and a gentle walk to calm my body down
I felt an internal dilation And my nerves formed coherent pathways.
I wandered softly, noticing the bones of my legs. I know now where the doves, that I have seen in the mornings on the shoreline, roost. They cooed and the evening carried all the other bird songs crisply amidst the silence bought about by heavy storm clouds of late May. It should be sunnier days by now. Constant wind and foreboding clouds in the daytime only let up in this earlier evening. I must take these walks more often as without them the weather feels like a pressure on my skin and mentally.
I walked to the sea, and then back to the house I know as home. In front of the house the oak tree has been there, forever. I see it entirely filling the view from my bedroom window. I have watched it more than ever over the past year. Being here again. It has a beauty that I could pray to.
This evening I walked over to the tree, its bark was silver. crust and mantle-like fissures that seemed planetary as my eyes adjusted to the scale. The streetlight, as if asked, gave pale green spotlight. I placed my hands on the bark and leaned in. Memories. Celandines, old Reg and his dogs, playing on birthday bikes, running about with other children on the estate. But then the age and sheer strength of this tree still standing moved me to tears. And my life seemed unimportant. I felt saved.