The Quickening Light

Following an Ancient Trail

Hello Beautiful Souls, I am humbled we have gathered again. Let us tread quietly along an ancient, woodland path and feel the rising energy of Spring.

Six am in the morning

The light is quickening now, the energy building daily and I confess I have stumbled to keep up. It is a familiar feeling, as I bring myself into balance with the ever-growing lighter mornings. Part of my nature – wellness journey is to live seasonally alongside the dark and the light, the ebb and the flow of the earth’s cycles. My hens at the allotment wake with the dawn and my morning routine in late Spring is a busy one; like the birds swooping back and forth feeding their young, every moment of daylight precious, every ray of warm sunlight a chance for growth to flourish as the soil warms and fully stirs.

I find some mornings the light is far ahead, and I struggle to keep up; it has swept the lingering darkness aside and arrives full of vitality and laughter as I gently emerge from my sleep and quietly step out to feed the waiting Blackbird. She comes every morning, a fledging, new to this world and still finding her way. She waits for the grapes I gently place under the garden bench so she can eat peacefully in the morning sun.

This morning I am on time, and I am packing my small rucksack for a walk across the local fields to the winding river and wild garlic which grows on its banks. Putting my warm flask into the bag, I reach for my boots and light jacket which I fill with sunflower seeds for any Robin who happens to land at my feet. Slipping out of my cottage I make my way towards the footpath, listening to an outburst of song from a hidden Wren.

For nature has come alive and there is much work to be done.

The window of growth, of rearing young, how the soil becomes warm to grow our food, is a short time in the cycle of our earth. I am always amazed at how quickly seeds germinate, how they seem to grow by centimetres each day, how they reach for the sun, the warmth and the nourishment they need.

As I reach the gate to the footpath I pause and notice how the grass is taller now, how it sways in the early morning breeze. Dandelions, bright and yellow open widely for passing Bees to forage and I look up to see the swoop of Sparrows as they fly energetically over my head.

So much energy, so much life.

Walking through the gate, I step out over the expanse of field, the feeling of space lifting my spirits as my morning, whirling thoughts quietly step aside and I am left with a feeling of peace as I become one with the land, and the soft breeze upon my face.

As I reach the woodland that takes me to the river I sense I am not alone. Looking up once again I see a Red Kite, gliding effortlessly against the sky. These majestic birds are rare where I live and I wonder who else has noticed the forked tail, the white markings and if they, like me are humbled to be part of the bird’s company for a short window of time. After a minute the moment is gone and I am alone once more, feeling the vibrant, strong energy left behind in the wind.

The woods are cool after the suns soft rays and my eyes adjust to the shady darkness. The trees are silent and yet I feel great comfort within their presence. I pause and lean against the great Oak whose ancient trunk is old and twisted. I can almost hear the secrets it has to say, the generations that have passed under it’s leaves. The laughter, the tears, and the quiet, solitary travellers. The Oak holds its stories of long ago, but I can feel the whispers of what was. Feel the brush of another age where planes did not roar overhead or motorbikes be heard from far away. If we look hard enough and stop to feel, we can sense a simpler past around us; the earth is full of footsteps, the echoes of those who came before us.

Leaving the old Oak behind I continue my way, following the footpath towards the river’s edge. I can hear the waterfall now, the forever flow of water tumbling down into the whirling pool below. Ducking underneath the branches of a Horse Chestnut Tree, I find myself next to the river herself and watch as the water matches the energy of Spring as it gushes over rocks and falls to the glistening pool below.

Sitting down on a nearby fallen tree trunk I take out my flask and lean against the Chestnut trunk, feeling held and grounded by the earth under my feet. As I take a sip of tea, I notice the Bluebells on the opposite bank and the smell of wild garlic.

I close my eyes and listen to the bird song, the river flowing to distant places and feel the rising energy of a new Spring Day.

Thank you for taking this gentle rest with me. I am humbled you have joined me.

If you would like to travel alongside for longer you are warmly invited to subscribe to receive my weekly free Nature’s Seasonal Letters.

For those who wish to journey deeper with me you are invited warmly to join my paid membership, ‘Beneath The Trees.’ Fortnightly personal letters sharing my journey of a slower rooted life and return to nature. I would be honoured to walk this path with you.

Seasonal Warmth to you all

Clare