APRIL—Looking for Beauty
As winter drifted into spring, the colds’ great bearhug that had embraced all had now released her grip and forsaken us. The bird songs are melodious and multitudinous in the burgeoning dawn of a glorious new day. As I ambled through soft green pastures where cleft-born wildflowers were soaking up the heat from the sun, a timorous hare leapt forth to feed on a rich supply of variable grasses. I quickly paused, but he had already heard my footfalls. Moments later he inclined his head and vanished like a disenchanted fairy. At the edge of the woods my eyes suddenly became dazzled as I stepped into a beautiful picture where the sun had gently transformed a welter of foliage into a blaze of colour, literally setting it afire, leaving me wreathed in smiles.
As I entered the woods my dazzled eyes surveyed the little stream, which ran bright in spirit and was cajoled into flowing, where the wild wandering brambles were combing the scum from the surface of the water, and it works musically. The midday sun was bright, the clouds like scarves of cobwebs, and the hours slide softly away.
Where the stream had feathered a small sandy beach, I rested a while and observed where a fallen field mouse had sadly lost her fight for life and had faded away. Her tiny paw prints still embedded in the sand.
I watched in wonder the jewelled burying beetles inter her body; they are the undertakers of the animal world. However, not for motives of charity but for sinister reasons, to store food for her larvae, their next generation. Underground the female beetle is also excavating the grave and once completed will lay her eggs in the fallen little mouse. On the surface several males will work together to cover the mouse’s body, thus completing the burial. From her death new life will emerge.
In amongst the trees, I could hear the call of a cock pheasant who wandered close by displaying his vivid white collar, his gorget, like the one worn by the country vicar. Above the trees I heard the soughing of wings as a murder of crows cleaved the air on powerful outspread wings, coming to land on the lower edge of the woods, whilst in the treetops above the pigeons sat and quietly croodled together. Where a tree stood half flayed and slowly dying, I stopped and wondered at its beauty. My fingers wandering over its gnarled bark and moss filled crevices, and I reflect on the many harsh seasons it must have endured during its lifetime. Suddenly a dunnock darted from its nest leaving me to explore the area where I spied a beautiful cosy nest with soft bedding reposing six beautiful blue eggs.
As I continued my journey following the stream which roamed coiling and uncertain, it disappeared momentarily then flowed over a waterfall singing its song into the coming night. The mood then changed as the temperature falls and the sun dips down over the horizon. The many carpets of bluebells’ now release their balm wafting their heady perfume for which the day forgoes. The stars high above were shining through the branches of the tall trees as they waved in the wind’s breath, where beams of the moon’s light began to surrender to my eyes. These beautiful wild vistas will charm the eye and warm one’s heart, for if you look closely at nature and pay attention you may catch a glimpse of something deeply hidden.
Wherever there is shade, gloom or overcast where white clouds stray and fleecy flocks of light would shine, these wonderful encounters helped me to recognise and appreciate the imperfection or transiency of life. The impermanence and fragility of everything, as nothing lasts forever, and the world reflects this everywhere. We are here and then we are gone like a solar flame from the heat of the sun. I find it all so meaningful, sublime and profound. Mother Nature has been a source of solace, delight and inspiration throughout my life, a teacher and a good companion. It’s about living as one is inherently intended to live. For Mother Nature has heaped her blessings on me enabling me to find my eudaimonic happiness.
