Nothing has changed for a thousand years here as you cannot hear a tree fall taken by the life that lives on and used again and again. Fungi sprout on flakey timber, lichen never found anywhere else on earth celebrate their status and sprout unusual orange tufts on crimped green leaves.
A stream runs the length of the ancient cut. Small deep glass pools form and bubbles converge as the falling water joins it’s sister below.
Above the cold a buzzard sits on an oak, wise as a General, hawk-eyed, hungry. Seams here in the rock run red with iron, concrete earth with plant and grow through each other sustaining,
while we fade away.
Standing in amongst the still clear water
Darting fish weave in awe, around, glowing white flesh beneath a fierce sun.
Caressing skin like lovers,
Freed silky mossy green algae float like ghosts, slide off my legs and back on again, teasing, provoking.
There is no sound of waves or birds.
This must be what heaven feels like
The stillness, the silence
and the solitude. Shush shush shush.
I can hear my breathing
The hot sun does not waiver, beats down on stung shoulders, hits the unmoving body of,
Deep turquoise aquamarine blue topaz, water, and bounces back again, in a shock of brightness that can hurt, so,
I close my eyes
I feel cocooned, enveloped in smooth coolness, and. I go further in.
It is home and I go slow.
I go further in and sink, below, another world.
I open my eyes and shut things out, the quietness of it surrounds my bare skin, there is nothing else.
Merged union sea and me, never sure of a start or a finish. I am hypnotised by his touch.
I go further in.