Natural forces were redolent of sweet cherries

Bird songs swiftly swallow up the impressionable void within, enabling me to walk and breathe amongst the nature I love so. I feel at one with myself, free of judgement, demands and responsibilities. Free-flowing through a range of smell sounds and the occasional face. Preference being more towards wildlife; however, I will not shy away from hello and a smile. I often diverted from the trodden path full of curiosity and intrigue. Inner feelings would guide my journey; we all get that ‘feeling’ we shouldn’t or should be somewhere.

I’d walk through rows of cherry trees, and the scent would be divine, naturally guided by the tones of brilliant red. Pockets of colours would embrace you as you walk. Having a magnetic drive towards the violets would charge my inner spirit with such joie de vivre. Exuberant in every step, I would embrace all the living by exploring and learning what it offers. Looking inside a hollowed-out tree, I found an artist’s bracket, a type of fungus that when you touch the white underneath it goes brown; natures own canvas. I managed to find one that had broken off, undamaged. I decided to find somewhere to sit whilst I thought about what I wanted to draw on it.

Losing track of time, the light shining through the woodland dimmed. The redolent cherries concentrated with an encompassing mellowness that lured me in like a hot dinner after a long cold day. A glow illuminating the silhouettes of trees made for an excellent spontaneous landscape drawing, and on what better than that of an artist’s fungi itself. Moving closer toward the light to better look at my progressing sketch, I notice a figure move beyond.

Wary of the figure, I announce myself, to which I was instantly invited toward with a smile. Compelling as it was, I was not naive to the fact this man was a stranger. Opening with he was “new around here” is always unsettling to hear in the dark alone. Tension soon melted away when he said he was stopping with family who I happened to know; safety concerns seemed to have diminished. Sharing stories of mutual friends, I felt like I had known him for a lifetime. I suppose that is easy when tales to tell intertwine and you complete each other’s sentences.

Campfire intensely ablaze, I sat in awe, accompanied by warm light reflecting with a glimmer in his eyes. It all felt like a dream, with each passing moment melting into the serenity of it all. Beginning to analyse his surroundings, constantly reviewing the situation I found myself in. No visible red flags. Intrigued as a book lay half-read upon a stump next to him assured me that I was in the company of a like-minded soul.

Approaching closer, he softly eased any residual tension with a witty enigma, “a little Jetbird dropped this off said I may need it”. I chose to embrace his quirkiness as I knew with the same level of confidence we were well suited, one of those feelings we spoke of. Pouring from his flask was a deep red wine; I chuckled, and this was when he reassured “the wine was called ‘Jetbird’; Would you like a glass of Merlot? Feeling compelled to take the vessel, I do, followed by my confession that I did not actually like Red Wine…

Deepening the connection, his knowledge emanated, only enticing me further. He spoke of the anti-inflammatory properties of wine, intriguing me on a personal level. A glisten in my eye, as I knew this was why I was here, I began to drink. My body is usually tied down by pain, crippling every joint and muscle, making the slightest movement seem improbable. It all radiated off me like speckles of dust in the sunlight, trauma lifted away, allowing my body to breathe and enjoy living.

Falling deeper for the stranger in the woods, I questioned, could my life change that much over a glass of Merlot?

I had to leave.

As we parted, he proposed, “would I be fortunate as to accompany you on a second date?”