August and The Tree

I went for a walk.

Not the most eloquent way to start writing but sometimes I get so caught up, in the beginning, I fail to remember the journey I am meant to be on.

So I went for a walk.

I needed a walk even though it was muggy and ever so often the rain would mist for a few minutes then vapour away until the next shower.

I needed a walk because I wanted to honour my commitment to one walk a month to the field, with my tree. I needed a walk because Friday needed to be separated from the weekend. I needed a walk to reconnect, with myself, Jesus, and the world around me.

It's late August, I was meant to do this walk at the start of each month, but the rain kept me waiting for a better day. Suddenly it's the 21st and I remember the photo has not been taken. I decide regardless of the weather, I will walk.

As I curve around the hedgerow into the field I see that the corn is taller than me. I grab my phone to record thoughts that pour out of my head. This is a visual representation of how I feel at the moment. Like everything is taller than me; overwhelming.

The path is wider than last month, though not pleasant,

there are thunder flies everywhere, or perhaps flying ants,

I don't stop to find out.

I pull my hood down further over my face,

even though the rain is nowhere to be seen.

I'm sure you told me to sit this time

under that tree, but I don't want to

The corn is not ready, I've checked

I'm surrounded by these tall soldiers

still growing, not yet ready.

yet it gives me hope, that even though I am surrounded

harvest is coming.

I walk past the first tree without even noticing it

stop at the second and recognise

that by the tree there are no flies

Hood up, Face Down, mouth covered

I push on for the third, from here is where the photos start

but I can barely see the tree ahead

Last night you told me to sit under the tree

but the rain is now falling

the flies are thick

and yet,

as I get to the tree, there is a brick waiting

and under the tree, there is no rain and the flies stay away

so I sit

and as I sit in nature's silence, soon my soul recognises sounds:

the corn rustling in the wind

the seagulls calling

the wildlife that darts around the floor

I can't see them, but I can hear them.

Distant cars, the chime of a train

insects pelting past my ear

another bird, I don't know its name,

it doesn't matter

for now, I want to be silent

and after time my mind rests on the tree

For even though it is surrounded,

it will not be overcome by the corn

and even though flies dart around it

it stands tall and unfazed

And as the rain falls

I sit sheltered, on the stone

that has been waiting for me.

After a while, I stand,

nothing externally has changed

I walk further through the corn, hiding my face

wishing I had bought my mask

but my soul is in a different place

and finally, the flies are gone,

and small pockets

of beauty line the rest of my walk.