layered land

A land layered with lush longings. Ones I recognize and greet every morning. Its detailed archive is equipped with vibrant overlappings of memory... they exist on all sides of the time spectrum. Layers speak from its bustling hive of activity, scattered hues of color discuss upcoming collaboration, chaotic yet unified sounds of landscape orchestrate a deep-rooted symphony. It comes and goes as it pleases. Soft and sharp edged foliage live in the same neighbourhood; their differences don't seem to cause conflict. I absorb these layers from my sheltered but exposed position, how can a place of so much vibrance and activity feel so still? My nose welcomes the familiar smell of fresh, damp grass carried by a subtle, fluid breeze weaving through cracks and open spaces, whistling, rustling, whispering as it goes. The Trees are warm. They shelter you with a protective hug using far-reaching limbs. A blonde, speckled canopy partially filters stormcloud tears allowing my skin to accommodate and interact. Goosebumps and raised hair follicles conversate with individual drops of silky liquid falling from above. The sky filled with fluffy, grey hues reaching as far as the eye can see. It moves like a sideways waterwall, rain teaming up with wind to create a sporadic, fluid, elemental performance in mid air. My feet are grounded, tethered to the warm earth and cool, moist whisky grass. Its rigid, furry texture tickles the sensitive part of my feet as I brush along its tenacious tips, sending a spine-chilling sensation off to travel throughout my body. Sounds are overwhelming if given the time. Startling masculine cries of curious bulls waver in the distance. They battle with high-pitched chirps that shrill on a different frequency - the sparrows are out and attentively playful - completely disregarding their perspective on the moments flailing elements. I look afar to the wide open sea of green, categorized by fences made up of wood and wire. I trace the waves that are bumps and bulges with my eyes, observing the relaxed movements of its users in which it provides for. The breeze subtly dries my attentive eyes, reminding me to blink....the land is so radiant and powerful, yet it just sits there...patiently...for what? Hues; highlights, shadows; shades, I am engulfed and overwhelmed with choice. Colors in every possible form, transcending through light they manipulate mass deceiving the eye. Morphing, dissolving, stretching, conjoining with one another they sugar-coat and seduce a visual world. Colors come equipped with the amazing ability to affect an atmosphere, making a rained on landscape, in my case, feel cosy. Hues of yellows and reds, mellow greens and deep indigos - all mindfully interact to inject a feeling in the one experiencing.

I consciously ignore the empty chair perched beside me to conjoin with the textured land beneath me. As I sit, I tremble, but then I relax....my overworked limbs loosen their grip complementing the deep flowing air of my breath. This perspective shrinks me with the booming canopy above, though not as much as the lively black dots interlacing their way through grass towers beneath me. As I let go of my thoughts and become aware of my layered surroundings in all its empowerment and diverse beauty, I close my eyes and breathe with the wind, feeling myself float further away with every breath. The stillness I questioned resonates in front of me manifesting itself as a feeling, it simply can not be articulated or observed.

These beautifully sound and intimate layers of landscape, they fulfill our moments of longing, they sit humbly unnoticed until they are. In times where we are defined by a deep sense of disentanglement, an opportunity to be still - to feel grounded - is a valued and gifted experience.

As the light streams through the splintered shell of our imaginings, illuminating all that is broken and dark and sore, may our gardens and our ground remain, as ever, the still point of the turning world. - Georgina Reid