Lost in the Forest

Lost in the forest, I broke off a dark twig
and lifted its whisper to my thirsty lips:
maybe it was the voice of the rain crying,
a cracked bell, or a torn heart.

Something from far off it seemed
deep and secret to me, hidden by the earth,
a shout muffled by huge autumns,
by the moist half-open darkness of the leaves.

Wakening from the dreaming forest there, the hazel-sprig
sang under my tongue, its drifting fragrance
climbed up through my conscious mind

as if suddenly the roots I had left behind
cried out to me, the land I had lost with my childhood---
and I stopped, wounded by the wandering scent.
Pablo Neruda

Up and off to Gougane Barra, via Ballydehob, to meet up with Margaret and Hannah, ex-colleagues. Many coffees, much talk, toasted sandwiches, more chat as all news caught up with and the world put to right. We staggered out into the woods of Gougane barra - one of the most beautiful places on earth. First you pass the deep and brooding lake complete with the tiny chapel dedicated to St Finbarr and beloved of weddings, passed the thatched loos, best in Ireland; then onwards into the dense, dripping velvety woods - the trees so straight and so mossy. Sheltering under a tree as a heavy shower passed overhead, we spotted this deer, unafraid yet watchful.
Back home and a swim - pretty spartan today as the tide was miles out and the jellyfish rampant. Nice though.