I left it with her beneath the sycamore and amidst the ramsons. My own invisible but no less heavy bag of questions. Huge life changing questions, fears, worries and anxieties.
I sat for some time under the new leaves. As the light trickled through it reflected a green tinge onto my pale skin and I was reminded of where I truly come from and where one day I will return.
So often I sit here and witness nature forfeit a tiny bit of its secrecy. Only to swallow it up with a passing dog walker or when I can no longer feel my hands and make that reluctant decision to move on. Today however was quiet in comparison. No rustling mice or fearless jays. Just a wren calling from deep within the thorny bush.
So I took my leave and gently made my way through the wood. Starry carpets of ramsons seem to travel on forever if it wasn't for the occasional bluebell breaking the mirage. I spent time noticing but probably seeing nothing as is so often the way with us humans.
I could smell something out of place and it wasn't long before I discovered the remains of a fire. Sweet wrappers lay garishly amongst trampled garlic. Bacon packets with unidentifiable gunk had introduced our hardworking bugs to fast food. I almost laughed when I found scorched exploded cans of deodorant with powerful names like 'strength' strange names for something now diseasing our mighty land. I could not walk by and imagine the creatures of our night stumbling upon this hazardous filth.
I found a tattered old sack and a piece of rope to fashion a bag, the only piece of litter not available. I picked my way around the debris and within ten minutes I had filled my makeshift bag.
Weaving my way out of the wood I told myself not to be disheartened. Every small act helps and nature will appreciate it. Then within a fleeting magical moment I saw a sparrowhawk flash past. A first for my birdwatching book with a smile painted on my face a blue trinket caught my eye. On a mossy mound next to my feet lay a broken eggshell, perfectly placed.
What a gift! for just a few minutes of my time nature has gifted me not a broken shell but the symbolism of new beginnings and potential. A birds most precious possession. I said thankyou and was instantly answered by the fluting song of a thrush.
I left today holding that shell knowing that my worries had been heard. I realised then that I had been given a second gift. My invisible bag of worries I had arrived with had become something real, this ugly blue sack in my hand was very much visible and could now be disposed of....after sorting it for recycling of course.