Peace by Nature

Come with me and enjoy a moment of peace in nature

Bluebells and Oak Trees

It’s late April, a week from Beltane, the peak of springtime. Entering the glade, I tip my face skyward and feel the warmth of the sun’s rays through the treetop canopy of the first leaf-burst on the old oak trees. Vibrant with new life in lime green, their brightness in stark contrast to the black wood limbs they spring from.  Youthful energy emanates from their rounded lobed edges, fluttering gently in the breeze, waving hello to the sun that fills them with warm lifeforce. Oaks are home to more biodiversity than any other native tree, one of the reasons my ears are full of a state symphony of birdsong! There are so many different songs playing at once I find myself transfixed to the spot, trying hard to single out different species. Twittering, yohooing, drum-beating, trilling, wolf-whistling, where-oh-where-are-you’ing, and a soprano escalating solo. Honking! I gasp as two geese fly overhead. I wasn’t expecting the water brigade couple’s baritone!

How does listening to springtime birdsong carry me away to such a peaceful magical place? I feel like I’m floating on clouds while the sun warms my bones. Arh! There he is! The little friendly robin with his cheery red chest, hopping right out onto a branch in front of my nose. His little tic calls in greeting. I often see a lady who brings him food feeding him by hand, so he’s become ever such a poser. I thank him as his presence and greetings never fail to delight. He doesn’t pay any mind to my dogs; I guess he knows they’re far more interested in digging their snouts into the ground rather than looking up. Snuffling like pig truffle hunters amongst the brown leaves, rotting acorns and dirt. Sniffing the new growth of nettles and never pulling away in fright. Doesn’t nettle sting wet dog noses, or do they just not care?

We walk together, making very slow progress as there’s so many great smells to snuffle and sniff. Denser into the woods a valley opens up showcasing a woodland floor of bluebell flowers, their little heads dipped like lantern lights on a pole. It’s a special time, bluebells are like shooting stars, they only light up the world for human eyes for just a fleeting moment. Best to take time and stop to really appreciate their beauty. They make such a beautiful sight my eyes spill over with tears. The fairies are near; these flowers belong to their realm. It’s dangerous for humans to walk through bluebells or pick them, which is fair I feel, the fairies are protecting them. I wonder if I stay very quiet and listen very hard if I can hear the fairies ring the bluebells to summon their kinfolk. Who wouldn’t want to party in springtime under an awning of bluebells!