The shiny striped bark of the wild cherry.
The furry moss covered trunk of the Ash,
solid and sturdy,
yet still moved by the wind breath.
The supple straight stem of the Chinese Handkerchief tree.
Bens coming of age tree,
rising into proud adolescence.
The smell of the air,
the earth still damp beneath the grass.
despite days of unbroken sunshine.
I swing, suspended in a hammock.
Everyday of lockdown, I do less
It is magnificently and delicious.
allowing me this opening widening spacious expansion.
My jaw releases.
my shoulders drop.
my whole body quietens into silent stillness,
held, rocked, soothed by the gentle sway.
I fall into bliss
amidst the birds hopping about in the canopy of leaves above.
and around me fairies dart through the sunlight.
Away a child splashes and yelps in delight.
The cherries and berries ripen.
The thoroughly lovely sound of hooves thudding against the earth reaches me
As the horses gallop about the field behind me.