In the Wild Wood

The past few weeks has been difficult. A combination of illness and distress over certain elements of my private life. Today when my husband took our two wonderful children out for the day and I was left at home it was just what I needed. I could feel the anticipation of slipping out alone into the wilderness buzzing in me all the way to my finger-tips. Seldom in my life has the desire to enter the world were no other human life is been so strong.

It's not that I dislike people. I am lucky to have some wonderful humans in my life. But the need comes upon me every now and again, to move faster than the children can travel, into denser more dangerous terrain than they can follow, to be among things with whom I can communicate without the need of words.

I knew I didn't just want a country-lane stroll, I wanted to go off-road, off-track even. So when I crossed the small Winter-borne stream in my trusty gum-boots and heard the waterfall through the trees, hidden from view, secret and enticing, I had to try to go there. There was no way through initially but I followed the winding paths that the wallabies make through the undergrowth, thinking if I follwed the wedge shaped marks of their feet in the mud, staying beside the stream the stream would end in river.

Within a short time of going off track I was among giant trees I hadn't even known hidden there. I put my back against one of them and closed my eyes, quietly introducing myself to the place and seeking a feeling of permission to penetrate deeper. The soft lift in the wind and the sight of a puffed up bush-robin, flitting from plant to plant confirmed my belief I should go deep. I found wonderful places there. Giant trees uprooted by their immense age and size, laying on their sides, their roots entwined with white clay. There was wonderful grottos and mosses and finally I found the river side.

The treck had been worth it for the sight of the river in full flood, bursting it's banks, and across it a tree bridge made of one of the great-grandfather's of the wood, covered in moss. The tree was by far strong enough to take my weight and I crossed and for a time sat down, neither on one side of the river nor the other, to meditate. When I had finished I climbed down the other side and realised I had not idea how I had got there. There had been no real visible track, the wall of green was smothering close all about me. But despite the closeness and denseness the place gave off no atmosphere of hostility and I felt unconcerned.

Wishing I hadn't brought my heavy duffle-coat and scarf because I was now sweating, I looked around me and wondered if the path up-hill would take me to the path I had taken to get into the wood in the first place. It was so dense even my dog couldn't get through properly, I decided to try walking on the river stones because the river was the only path that didn't present as a wall of greenery. But within a very short while of negotiating the mossy river stones I fell into the river. Icy Winter flood water flooded into my boots and soaked into my clothing. The shock heightened my awareness and I flailed a little to stand up, amid the running water and slipperiness of the river-weed. Pulling myself out of the water using some friendly plants I stood on the river bank and considered my options. I had found a wonderful place, a wonderful place I doubt anyone but me would probably want to try getting into or out of! And now I had to get out of it.

I emptied out my gum-boots and decided that if wombats could get through here so could I. I was cold and wet and it looked like rain so I figured rather than doubling back and trying to get out that way I'd try the all-fours approach. The first thing I needed to do I found was leave behind anything I'd tried to take with me from this place. Dutifully the lumps of clay and flat bark in awesome long scroll like strips was left where it had come from and I got down to the task of crawling my way out of the wood. All above me was a dense roof of tangled vines and bramble but when I scrunch up tiny I'm not too my bigger than a wombat. I crawled through dirt, and probably some quantity of animal manure, scratching and clawing my way out of the tunnel. As the tunnel of green ended in light and I spilled out onto the grass I experience the sensation of having been given birth to by the wood.

I rolled over on my back, sopping wet, covering in mud and grinning from ear to ear. I lay there for some time before sitting up to wringe out my socks and do the obligatory 'leech check' on myself. As I was sitting there very close to me my power animal circled in the sky over head of me. The falcon circled three times and then disapeared into the trees. I was left feeling an intense sense of holiness and awe, a sense of having touched the wild heart of this land I love. In some way even though it was not that far out I'd found a secret water-fall, crossed the perilous bridge to the Underworld and then returned to the land of the living through a long difficult tunnel, guided by my spirit bird. I think I am refreshed.