Taking a walk in the afternoon sun and in the cool of the ancient trees was a time of quiet and as I felt my body relax and my mind quieten with every step deeper into the woods, I lost myself in the lives gone by and what these trees were witness to across the centuries.
In this warmest part of the day, the forest was silent as it welcomed me in with open boughs. So silent, in fact, the dominant sound was the gentle munching of grazing ponies as they swished their tails keeping off flies and twitched their skin to disturb the ones that conquered the swishing I stopped for a moment to watch the contentment of these roaming ponies as they blow the dust from their nostrils, but not once lifting their heads from the foraging as they sent out that delicious pony smell of fresh grass with musty undertones for me to catch and to remind me of happy carefree days on horseback.
As I wandered, the forest and I became one as it consumed me and gave me a sense of utter peace and utter belonging. The silhouettes of deer could be seen in the cool of the trees, and a cuckoo was calling from his usual spot. Speckled wood butterflies danced in the sunny glades, and peacock butterflies rested on flowers.
Southern wood ants busied themselves with house repairs and hunting in the warm, vert landscape and as my fascination was fixed on their comings and goings, suddenly I could hear the monotonous call of a greater spotted woodpecker chick coming from a hole in the tree nearby.
So I sat beneath the boughs of the majestic oak and watched, listened, and loved nature in its beautifully, purposeful motion.
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