Last night I had a dream about Himantoglossum hircinum, I woke up worrying and I’m not sure why.
The dream was really clear, it was there as I’d seen in the summer, me surrounded by nothingness, the wind brushing around me, grass spilling about the thousands of orchids rarely seen in the UK. My hand reached out and I woke up.
I’ve been in a thug for a few weeks and I’ve been trying to figure out why. Then it was thinking about this dream that I realised, I haven’t been out there, in nature, out in the world, since late summer. In the warmer seasons I’m out and about every week on the hunt for this plant or that.
I do love autumn and winter, their colours and shapes, the cold reminding us that we’re alive. In some ways the dead season is my season. It lacks the draw however of a plant in flower for a week, luring me to it. There is beauty though of a different kind.
I need to be out in the wild, exploring. It’s a life source and without it I know it affects my mood. Looking at the minutiae of each little life going about its day, a bird, a bug, a plant, fungi, fish. Everything all around.
I’ve decided that this weekend I have to get out and about, to explore and walk – to walk myself out of this weird mood I’ve found myself in. To breathe new life.
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