Last weekend found me quite unexpectedly foraging out in the woods. A friend had mentioned seeing a large piece that would make a nice stang and another asked me to look for it, so to task I went. The piece turned out a bit too large to transport but I decided to meander about anyways .. my week had been rather tense and there was much on my mind. I trekked the shortest path near the river and came upon a blue(?) heron. He turned out to be the only soul I would come across for most of the day. It made me think of my friend (herons always make me think of her lately) and I felt less alone for a bit.
The second path I came across had a very Grimm looking entrance where further in I found a tree of three holding its own little nest of twisty briars. I made a mental note to revisit another day with my pruners as I was sure I could find a use for them. The trees pressed in and so I took my time winding through them, stopping on occasion to gather bits of bark and things to try in a nature spirit incense. I had the quiet all to myself and decided to visit a lovely bark-stripped tree that I had glimpsed earlier, surrounded by chunks of its fallen outer. I sat to lay my hands on its newly smooth and talked for a bit. I took some of the bark for myself, leaving an offering of food and blood (from my poor thorn punctured feet) and said my farewells feeling much more at peace with the world.