Day 1 (official)
Green. Walking the familiar track. Just me and flirting wrens, the hum of a massive, exploratory bee the only motor. The green. A tyre mark in dried mud an eye-catching ghost of force and speed, obsolete as single use plastic. I feel a lifetime’s unnoticed tension drop out of me at the sense of cessation.
No more violence towards the wild, subtle, dextrous, complex, exquisite green. What a dream. But on this quiet day I can suddenly hear that other world breathing. A woman in barefoot boots and a wool coat like a cloak smiles down in passing from the top road, a ranger from ancient tales. We’re in this together and the tears flow, from a pool that feels fathomless. Later I’m shy to step out of the road when a van comes up behind, but he’s grinning anyway.
And after that release here’s my heart. In green. I feel more than I ever have in the trunks and hedges, can see the little paths and homes and signs. This huge horse chestnut says hello. I hear more than I ever have. I imagine a next life as one single pennywort leaf in the colony on the branch over the path and it pleases me as much as friend’s loving squeeze does, coming in on the phone. Soft tears. Nettle soup waits at home.