Self &the Forest (a clumsy pun on Sex & the City)

Forests are special places. Every time I come across a certain birch wood, deep within Tunstall Forest, my heart just expands, my soul dissolving. I become a part of the forest, losing my sense of self and recognising that I am a part of things, and not separate from it.

I cannot find this deep sense of connectedness in other places so easily. I think that this is because we can be in a forest. We can be upon a windswept plain, a mountaintop. We can float upon the sea, or swim near the surface. But the forest – ah, the forest. We can be in the forest. It surrounds us, letting us go inside, losing that personal identity, gaining a new one which is part of the world that surrounds you. You become a part of the forest, and the forest becomes a part of you.

Stepping out into the sun dappled birchwood, my soul expanded, and I could feel the wind shimmering on the high leaves of the trees, hear the crow cawing and know that it too was a part of me (me being the forest). I was the earth warmed by the sun, the cool shade. I was the spider, the ant, the deer sleeping in the depths. It’s an incredible sensation.

Sitting upon a hilltop, gazing at the mountains around me, I have felt something similar. Yet, that sense of self still remained – I flew upon the wind, but was still in my self. The edges had not blurred around my own nemeton – they simply took on the colour of that which was around me. Deep within the heart of the forest, the edges melt away.