The Scent of the Old Forest

The Scent of the Old Forest Carries Me

The scent of the old forest carries me

As I float slowly and carefully through this ancient community.

The scent of the old forest carries me

As I tiptoe across thick, knotted roots crossing the path,

Roots that bind the members of this family together.

Yes I float, I tiptoe, not wanting to disturb the communication that is happening

Between and among the hidden underground root threads,

Filaments vibrating with essential nutrients and vital information,

Binding holding knitting the community together.

I breathe deeply, my lungs suffused with the piney tangy sweet decadently rich scent of the old forest.

I am overwhelmed with awe and gratitude and start to take a seat on a fallen log to rest,

But I stop.

The fallen log, a nurse log, is home to new plant life,

Mosses, ferns, fungi of all colors and shapes, and baby trees forming from seeds that have drifted down and landed on the loamy surface.

She is home to thousands of insects, most invisible to my human eye.

She is a resting place, a play space for squirrels and chipmunks, robins and wrens.

A nurse, giving and nurturing and supporting beyond her human-defined life span.

Hah.

Her life span, the life span of this forest is thousands and thousands of years thus far,

And stretches from the past into the future well beyond any time that I will know.

The scent of the old forest carries me

Back into ancient times and forward into an unimaginable future.

I breathe. Deeply.

I am but a tiny speck in the lifetime of the forest.

Humbled.

love to all, mb