. NESTING IN A SECRET ORCHARD .
with
MICHAELA
This is a simple tale:
of little adventures
raw talks
laughing so hard we almost fell over while
tightrope walking
on an old log in a pond
pooling under a large chalk cliff.
Sour cherry-plum picking
drifting dragonflies
clambering hands and feet
over rocks
and through the river
to lay down in the long grass.
These are the best kinda days…
The curious ones, where everything seems so simple under the eyes of the sun and the wind, washing away all whispers of worry, or of the future, or even of dinner that night.
The wind also washed away all those whispers that we spoke behind the shelter of the bushes by the water’s edge. All you might have heard is a small cackle or two, a laughed-out-word caught in the breeze, and the glimpse of feet dipping in and out. The flash of white in the undergrowth, out of the corner of your eye. The sound of a singing bowl coming from the wooded hill up ahead…
