dreaming of the wildwood

I went out today with my old bicycle and my almost-as-old camera, seeking trees. I have poetry and leaves in my heart at the moment, and I dearly miss the wildwood, the deep, murmuring wood, and who I am when I go there. So I bought an ice cream and I rode over the hill until I came to greenery. It wasn't enough, but it was something.




I often wonder how many women are dryadish, with broad-leafed voices and dirt-rooted thoughts. Women in office towers, and suburban houses, busy women, slightly lonely women, who hunger for the community of trees even though they might not know it. I don't think all women are this way. Some prefer the light or the fire. This is a good world for them, at least lately - every time I turn around, I see another city. Another lot of gardens and parks being ripped apart for a new road. Poetry is shouted, these days. Trees grow in boxes on the sidewalk. It's hard for a dryadish woman to hear her native language. The hush and sway of leaves in breezes tells the story of the world in a very different way from nightclub music and neighbourhood noises. How many people feel exiled or lost in the middle of the land where they were born?




For seven years, I have lived without the consolation of the wildwood. My voice has changed over that time. My skin feels different. The older I get, the more I sense the deforestation of my self. And the more I seek trees on the horizon, in the environment, in books and conversations. Not even trees exactly, but the wild lush loveliness that the woods represent. The way they soften the world and fill it with song.



 Are you dryadish, or do you have stones in your belly, gold fire for your voice?

9 comments:

  1. most certainly dryadish, yet i have a great passion for stones.
    all so lovely to consider.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I live surrounded by woodlands and rainforests, forever talking to the trees.. and hugging them. I couldn't live, dare I say survive, in the concrete world.
    Loved your post.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I yearn for the forest, I always do. It feels like a refuge to me, with many, quiet loving voices.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Yesterday walking through the back lanes of a village, I saw a large tree in the back garden of one of the houses. The bark was beautifully knarled from hundreds of years but the roots were firm and strong. As there was no-one around, I stood and stared at it for a long time wondering why it made me feel so happy and became lost in a story I once knew. xx

    ReplyDelete
  5. I grew up in the suburbs, but spent many hours playing in the forest as a child. As a young adult, I lived near the sea ~ which also was beautiful ~ but always longed for the forest, which is how I came to live where I do now. My heart is happy here.

    Thank you for all you share with us, Sarah. Your writing and photography is beautiful.
    ~ Lin

    ReplyDelete
  6. Oh, definitely a Mountain woman. High altitudes, cool climate, lots of trees, but also cracks and jagged edges to balance the soft roll of alpine meadows.

    ReplyDelete
  7. My heart's geography is trees and flowers and quiet pond water; it is full of birds and frogs, turtles and rabbits.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Trees are comforting and wise companions. I was born in a place immersed in indigenous forests, full of rivers and waterfalls and not to far from the sea either. So I do miss and crave those sorts of spaces often.

    ReplyDelete
  9. oh, trees, trees, trees, most definitely trees. they have always felt like sisters and brothers to me. stones, especially unshaped stones, are lovely too. and running water, and green rolling hills, and snow-topped peaks. but i am ever and always a child of the trees.

    ReplyDelete