No need to remember a technique,
fire up an app
or take a class.
Just go into the garden
and do what needs to be done.
A bit of weeding,
tidying the greenhouse,
watering tomatoes and cucumbers,
(there is always something
that needs attention).
Simply do the work,
at its own pace.
When the time is right,
find a spot to rest,
perhaps with a cup of tea.
(summer fresh butterflies dance between flowers)
(there are a lot of dewy cobwebs around)
(the asters are starting to flower)
(I can still hear the swallows).
At a conference,
head bursting with ideas.
Talks about nature and wellbeing,
the benefit of mindful ‘forest bathing’,
the importance of nature connections.
dried up by windowless rooms,
and too many strangers.
Break time and I escape
into a bookshop.
Funny how I always end up in one of these
when the urban world becomes too much.
My shoulders drop as I cross the threshold,
calm among wood
pulped and pressed into pages,
the ghosts of trees.
A forest of paper and words,
I feel at home
I don’t read them, just soak in the cathedral-like atmosphere
and refrain from buying another expensive notebook.
I feel the benefit of a kind of forest bathing,
a tenuous connection to nature
until I can get back to the real thing.