We walked to the heights above the village writes Hazel. Below us, in a maze of alleyways, sat a huddle of thatch and stone enveloped by walled gardens in this ancient borough.
Climbing slopes of short grass, we found the small gap between field and wood, a narrow stoney path of red earth. We scrambled over the stile dropping onto a well worn path, our hands and bodies brushing against tall grasses, nettles and giant hemlock. Damp, rank scents of of chamomile, plantains, sorrel jumped into our nostrils at every footfall. Thickets of sloe and bramble prickled our bare shoulders as the path narrowed and twisted this way and that, at times obscured by tall trees and dense undergrowth. Above us, hung heavily scented, over blown bunches of elderflowers, longing to be picked, ready to shapeshift into sweet heady champagne.
Stopping, we held and kissed in the silence of this wilderness, for wilderness it was. The lands around this wood, were peopled and busy, town and farmland lay within easy reach, but this small woodland, forgotten, abandoned, had remained lost, a realm of stillness, where nature kept her secrets!
The path continued to meander, occasionally splitting into two, several narrower paths led off to…who knows where? Following blindly, hands held, pausing for more kisses, we came across miniature groves of stunted trees. suddenly aware of a hundred Faerie eyes peering at us from the deep dark thickets, hidden beneath these ancient twisted tree roots. Swathes of pink campion, lined the path, tangled branches of dog roses craned over us. Invisible birds chirped noisily as dusk crept in, the late midsummer sun slowly pondering about setting, then instantly flooding the clouds with fire.
As we suddenly left the dark wood and came out onto a clearing, a high point, above cliffs and the wide reach of the bay, the sea stretched itself out to a sharp horizon, in an awe- inspiring sweep!
Pausing again in this timeless silence, wanting to capture the moment, absorb these vistas, we moved to each other, to celebrate this midsummer eve… enfolding…. finding lips, bodies wanting, minds meeting, words not said, decisions not made, no hesitation just a bodymeld, our spirits seeping into this beautiful land.
The tall grasses smiled.