Staying at home, walking on local footpaths and bridleways, enjoying quietude.

Staying at home, walking on local footpaths and bridleways, enjoying quietude.

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Secret path

A local walk I like to think is my own.

How quiet is the forest.

Beside the brook, I hear cracking hogweed, like tiny castanets.

And rustling grasses looking like fairy tassles.

I see illuminating, floating gold dipped seed dust, filtered in ribbons between stately trees.

Scratching dry earth with a hawk’s feather, it feels worn like old leather.

How quiet is the forest.