Photograph by Artist
The trembling of the leaves seems more personal as I stand here open to the connection that calls from my trees. This Beech was only a dozen leaves old when she called to me to enter the circle…It is a staggered affair now, but as I really look it is still a place which contains some natural magic. The darkness at my heels questions the possibility…
It is always a birth after such a void of dark thoughts, a dance that I must dance to seal the birthing again to life. A dance of bestial intent with a raw desire for passionate movement…In the forest amongst the spirits of the grove, feeling their rhythm and peace being lost in the soft earth and moss, that quenches my thirst to be filled. Filled with wonder of an innocence that remains a constant presence in the wild places, places formed with the wind. I seek the wild places that have been formed in me.
Memory reminds me once more to walk upon the path of my people. I find it in music no question, in notes that resonate with such extreme beauty…There is nothing quite like making music even if it is only for a long moment. It seems that the moment is the thing that stays far beyond it’s experiencing. Past informing the future becoming eternal. Many moments have gathered like leaves in the wind, I make a bed with them on which to lie. Dreaming of so many possibilities without a commitment to live any one with real vigor…I suppose it is in my nature that is water, always changing depth and perspective…probably need to build a few dams at least long enough to finish the manifest thought! Instead a trail of thoughts gather in my tail, dragging on the forest floor of my imagination.
Naomi Brosnan 