in the shadowed wilds
In the shadowed wilds of mature deciduous woodland where the trees are throttled by the ivy, the wood anemones now steal the show, cloaking the ground and blooming like a galaxy of stars. The random clumps of snow piercers (snowdrops) their white beauty now faded have provided a much needed food supply for the early bees. For one enchanted moment the world seems fresh and new before the sunbeams break the spell drying the morning dew. In the fretted treetops above a blackcap sang a song low and sweet. The heat brings forth an army of snails to revel in the moisture while fossicking in the leaf litter, for they are the bell weathers (species indicators) alerting us of environmental changes taking place, they are the canaries of the mines.
On this still morning the little meandering stream barely shimmers, with a gentle flow on its leisurely unhurried journey it flows under the green feathered curtains of the weeping willow where the mayflies dance. Where the trickles of the stream eddy into holding places is where the Polly-wiggles (tadpoles) bask in the sun.
In the diaphanous drapery of the trees a zephyr wanders through, I feel the whispery of the good ghosts, but here in the patches of copse is where the sweet scented flowers of the bluebells grow. However, a remarkable incident occurred in the midst of my pursuit. A little fox I named Finbarr appeared, he felt he must slake his thirst. My footholds became mortise and tenon in stone as I watched him sip around the green mantle of the pond as Tom did in King Lear, but the barometer of his emotional nature was set for a spell of riot.
Like the sunbeams on a frosty morning, the light seeps in to the inner depths of my mind and I wonder in the creeping trance of time what this place would look like in a score or two of age.
As I rest a while anticipating the spring born lambs and the noisy brood of the barnyard, I watch a buff-tailed bumble bee alight on a golden lesser celandine (Wordsworth’s favourite wild flower) she quickly burred away for it is she who will start the new colony carrying her stored seed of life from last summer’s nuptial fling.
The countryside seems drenched in a deep green stupor, the grass could not look thicker, the cattle more docile when suddenly a rabbit came out of a burrow taking care over its reconnoitring, the next however pauses briefly before emerging, what swiftly arose and spread around me was the feeling of peace, joy, knowledge and the wonder of this place.
I fervently believe we have been the recipients of the choicest bounties on earth. There is much to be learned in nature especially at the time of spring, for Mother Nature is whole and yet she is never finished. By studying the natural world at close quarters I believe has two purposes, to educate the heart and enable people to know God, but moreover you will have learned the science of being happy along the way.
Image credit: Sebastian Unrau on Unsplash
