Wordsmithing: WRITING AND COMMUNING WITH NATURE

Sunday, 16 September 2012

WRITING AND COMMUNING WITH NATURE

Robin doesn't like sesame seeds, but enjoys
pumpkin and sunflower seeds.
Image from Wikimedia

Writing is not a serious business; it’s not work. Writing is a joy, a celebration... you should be having fun at it. ~ Ray Bradbury

We have a juvenile robin in our garden.

Over the past few weeks, we’ve been trimming back and mowing, and turning the soil.

At first, the bird sat on the fence while we worked. Over-time, it became confident enough to get closer and then close.

We had to be there because we were tidying the garden. But, every time the bird turned up, seeing Robin made us smile.

We never thought it was looking for company, it tidied away the food we were turning up.

Watching Robin's constant twitching, I'm sure our presence in the garden made the bird secure enough to concentrate on eating and not keeping an eye out for the neighbours’ cats.

This has been a learning experience. And an unequal relationship.

For the bird, it’s been about fulfilling its basic need for food.

But, that's not what we got out of seeing the robin. We felt a deeper emotional response – profound.

It’s our robin.

But, I don’t think it knows that.

Communing is almost as satisfying as real communication.

I have to work.

I love to write.

Over the past few weeks, I have learned why it's important to get outside too.

WHAT HAVE YOU DONE RECENTLY THAT MADE YOU ENJOY BEING OUTDOORS?

4 comments:

dolorah17 September 2012 at 07:15
I've been doing some cleaning and prunning outside too. The further across the yard I get without feeling stickers, the better I feel about the yard work :)

.....dhole
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Anne Gallagher17 September 2012 at 14:58
I've got to set my tasks outside in priority. Lawn, then pruning. And it's raining again so not so much these days. Love the Robin.
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RETURN: YA Paranormal Romance

I was running late. But, it was nothing I couldn’t make up with a bit of effort. I shook my head. Confident and happy? I smiled. Increasing my stride, I pushed until the muscles in my legs burned. I kept up the pace even when the hill grew steeper.

Magpie Lane was hardly wider than a ribbon that edged the woods but that didn’t stop traffic using it to get to the motorway quicker. Large trucks and fast cars loved Magpie Lane. They sent vibrations running through me rising from the soles of my trainers. I felt the disturbance in the ground, even before the air pressure tried to knock me off balance. I hunched my shoulders as the cab hauling a container spat stones up at me.

Jogging on the spot, at the entrance to woodland, I ached to leave the road and go inside. My Mum was probably still asleep but I could hear her you-never-know-what might-be-in-there lecture buzzing on repeat inside my head. I should run safe. Not even I would argue that running through the woods on my own was the best definition of safe but I wanted to run-wild and the woodland offered me that. This early, I should be safe from axe murderers or perverts in the trees and besides, I was fast.

I jogged down the slope into the trees. From two paces in, I felt different. Freer. It felt so right. Running in the woods did great things for my style. Avoiding the roots and dodging branches forced my stride longer, I had to step higher. The woodland, The Weald, was only a sliver of ancient woodland that the developers forgot to build on but it felt like it could have been anywhere. Everywhere. At any time. The oaks and beech trees dominated the space and the skinny, silver-birches squeezed up beside them. I laughed. For a second, the woods reminded me of school and I needed to run a lot faster.

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Sunday, 16 September 2012

WRITING AND COMMUNING WITH NATURE

4 comments: