The Heart of the Silent Wood

As the days lengthen and the warmth of the sun rejuvenates the plants and animals, I have often noticed a less enjoyable side to human behaviour within the spring season. It is in some ways hard to describe but in essence it feels like being pushed or jostled. It is perhaps in due to the greater quantity of people being enticed out by the warmer weather that I notice just how many human beings their are and how crowded this island has become.

Once the sun has set and the land begins to cool, I find I am alone again in the folds of the night, and after a day in the presence of society it is a welcome relief. As the cooling air surrounds me I can feel the tension leaving my body, shoulders lower and the neck begins to regain greater movement. The glow of moonlight soothes the eyes as they adjust from the harsh light and focus of the day to the peripheral vision and relaxed gaze needed to hold the sights of twilight. As my vision adjusts, so does my mind set, the details and intricacies of the day give way to the more perceptive and creative mind.

With barely a ripple of wind in the trees I cast my eyes up towards the moon glowing brightly through the tree canopy. While the sun seems to be the heart of the seasons, the moon it seems is the heart of the silent wood. The wax and wain of its cycles holds sway over the hunting creatures of the wood, and even over the people who tentatively conduct their activities in the car parks at the wood edge. The full moon always heralds more activity and the new moon makes for a stiller mood.

It would seem we are as moths, creatures drawn to the light. The stronger and warmer the light, the more are attracted and the jostling will begin again. I  find I have no desire for the competitive world of the spring and summer rush, the slow and quiet beat of the moon will remain the  light and pulse I find most comfortable.