flung headlong

in preparation for class here at Long Ridge Farm
i wander into the woods
the path a soft depression in the landscape
invites velvet paws



i have the feeling of being watched
not uncomfortable
more the sense of shared space

sitting on a rock i close my eyes
and it's then that the sweet fragrance of the maples
takes me to another time

forty-two years ago
nearly to the day
i first played in woods like these
not so far from here
fondly imagining i could disappear between the trees

the memory tsunami is almost too much
as is the place itself
so beautiful it hurts



later
walking back to the farmhouse
i find a brier* patch
berries sweet and dark
sorry bears
i ate them

and it put me in mind of a favourite story
about someone who'd been born and bred in a brier patch

despite distractions
a few leaves found their ways
into my pockets



* purists may challenge my spelling but this i how i read it first
all those years ago...