The Return

For a moment we hover at the Peak, the pinnacle, the turning point.

And then the seasons turn once more.
The sun begins to wane
Imperceptibly at first, the morning and then the evening,
quietly begin to draw in.
The slow descent into winter begins.

So here we are.
The hum of the distant motorway is back.
Alongside the Jackdaws and Jasmine flowers at dawn.
A cock crows, the fennel is flowers atop its unruly feathers.
The sun is warm already as I sit high on the mountain amidst the birds.
In one direction sheep maa,
In the other, cars stream and a motorbike roars through its gears.
I am filled with dread that life will return to the old normal
That we will have learnt nothing – taken nothing – from this pause,
this moment of health crisis, this moment of juncture.
Certainly I have not made the personal changes I would have liked.
How long would I need?
A deep breath fills me with Jasmine scent which soothes my regret.
But time is running out.
To continue as we have been living is suicide.
We are reaping the results right now of the last seven generations.
Of an industrial revolution that has taken our greed,
the rape and pillage of our planet,
to a new level
and beyond sustainability.
We are out of time,
out of resources,
an engine clogged with the gunk of its own making.
“Gasping, dying but somehow still alive,
this is the fierce last stand of all I am. Please keep me in mind”.
Lament the lyrics in my mind.

A blackbird lands and hops across the grass
looking for worms, preening it’s feathers, listening attentively.
Walking closer towards me.
undaunted by my presence while I remain still.
A bronze bug tickles my arm,
followed by an ant and a tiny yellow spider.
I feel myself taken back by nature,
subsumed.

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