The Grass Forest

Saturday August 11, 2007 (Broadoak, Dorset)

The camp was stirring. Small children swung in the nearby trees, calling happily to each other. I sat in a pool of sunlight in the long grass, dotted with thistles and breathed in the freshness of the morning. Around me, rustles and shifting told me I was not alone.

I moved through a dark green tunnel out into the open. The trees were very odd. They were tall and green and they waved and swayed as I moved through them. The sun’s inquisitive fingers poked between them, splashing cheerful yellow pools at my feet. I ran through them, laughing out loud for sheer joy.

A Thicker taller tree, with hairy trunk, cast its shadow suddenly across my path. Tired, I sank down under it to rest.

As I got my breath under control I became aware that I was being watched. From the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of little bright eyes in a greenish triangular face, framed in leaves. I turned to look but just the strange flat smooth trees greeted me.

And then I knew where I was and what was going on. I was tiny. These strange trees were the grass and I was resting under a hairy thistle! I began to laugh and again was aware of the little triangular faces, now peeking out from all around me which disappeared if I consciously looked.

I got up and bowed to the hidden faces in thanks for showing themselves to me and walked back to the day.