The Awakening of an Oak

High skies and a light breeze.
An oak holds its breath, while a tree creeper sweep the deep furrows.
Church bells in the distance blends, with a bullfinch’s cautious call.
I take a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air mixed with the delicate fragrance of sorrel.
A slight breeze awakens the oak, the tree creeper disappears around a corner,
I disappear down the path, rested and happy.
Hanna Greenwood

The Oak

Happy walk to all of you.