Sleeping In The Forest
by Mary Oliver
I thought the earth remembered me,
She took me back so tenderly
Arranging her skirts
Her pockets full of lichens and seeds.
I slept as never before
A stone on the riverbed,
Nothing between me and the white fire of the stars,
But my thoughts.
And they floated light as moths
Among the branches of the perfect trees.
All night I heard the small kingdoms
Breathing around me.
The insects and the birds
Who do their work in darkness.
All night I rose and fell,
As if water, grappling with luminous doom.
By morning I had vanished at least a dozen times
Into something better.
On a cold, but not terribly cold Sunday afternoon in mid-December when we had our first snowfall, our little family of four did what we normally do when Daddy isn’t working on a Sunday. We headed to the bush at the back of our family farm for a hike on the old logging roads which crisscross the forest floor. In warmer weather we will walk the 1 mile round trip from our house to the bush, but since little toes get cold quickly in this weather, we decided it might be fun to pull the littlest on her sled behind the ATV while the biggest kid circled his go-kart around us. (no pictures of this part because I was driving and needed both hands while Daddy was the watcher in the trailer making sure everyone was safe).
Up next in the circle is the madly talented Kate Cuenoud and her magical, whimsical Switzerland winter.