Description
Where I go
Looking for a breath of fresh air, I head north to escape the scorching Mediterranean summer. It is a ritual I’ve repeated often in recent years. This time the destination was an archi- pelago of volcanic islands in the North Atlantic. Scenic and movingly beautiful when the radiant light pierces the clouds, they are dotted with rugged paths connecting silent villages by the dark sandy beach of a fjord. As I filled my eyes with that majestic beauty, like the power of the ocean, but not very hospitable, I encountered nothing to hide the horizon from my gaze, apart from fog or mountains. Not a tree, not a shrub.
The islands are bare.
What did I miss?
The magic of the forest, its mystery.
The evidence of life, the variety.
The welcome of the trees, their friendship.
where I go
is where you will find me, in body or spirit.
