Sylva Fae

I see trees of green…

I see trees of green, 
Red roses too. 
I see them bloom, 
For me and you. 
And I think to myself,
What a wonderful world.

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It’s such a glorious time to wander round the woodlands. I amble slowly enjoying the swish and sway of green as the ferns and foliage reach their summer best. Sticks in hand, the children charge ahead full of energy and giggles. Broad leaves wave on the breeze providing deliciously cool shade for our wanderings, and the sunbeams sparkling through the leafy canopy hint at the warmth beyond the trees. We set off down a well worn path, treading softly on a carpet of pine needles and leaping over thorny brambles. Some days are for forging new paths as my little adventurers explore but today we delight in a familiar and favourite walk.

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I see skies of blue, 
And clouds of white. 
The bright blessed day… 

20150809_171508A jungle of ferns marks the western edge of the wood. We wade through, past the hawthorns we feasted on in May, past the spiky holly to the old oak tree that hangs over the stile. This marks the entrance to our Secret Field. As we break through from the shade to the blue, we shed our jackets and take a moment to bask in the sunshine. Then the children are off. No longer confined to weaving through trees and stooping under branches, they sprint, dance and cartwheel the length of the field. I sink down into the long grasses and giggle at their antics. Gazing beyond, a field of dusky pink stretches to the horizon. I ponder what it could be…

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The dark sacred night. 
And I think to myself, 
What a wonderful world.

When the sun goes down we leave the mesmerising flicker of the campfire to retrace our steps to the Secret Field. The children stomp bravely in the dark safely clutching the hands of a grown-up. Torches dance across the woodland floor and we march forward following the golden beams of light. Then torches off, we snuggle on blankets in the Secret Field to marvel at a myriad of stars. My husband points out the constellations as little fingers point excitedly at a shooting star and passing satellites.

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The colors of the rainbow, 
So pretty in the sky. 
Are also on the faces, 
Of people going by, 
I see friends shaking hands. 
Saying, “How do you do?” 
They’re really saying, 
“I love you”.

A light drizzle casts a rainbow over the fields of pink and I set off to discover what they can be. Words cannot describe the beauty of discovery. I linger in the poppy fields, drinking in the shades of fushia, crimson, magenta and indigo and photograph the scene to preserve this moment of perfection.

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My girls delight in sharing their favourite places and walks as family and friends join us in the woods. The atmosphere changes, the peace is replaced by chatter and laughter. I experience afresh the splendour of my little woodland, as our friends discover the places we love. These shared moments are so precious.

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I hear babies cry, 
I watch them grow, 
They’ll learn much more, 
Than I’ll ever know. 
And I think to myself, 
What a wonderful world.

One by one, we hug and kiss our friends and family goodbye and calm returns to the wood. We wearily wander down to say goodbye to our Secret Field. My tired girls attempt a last few cartwheels but soon slump down into the grass. Together we gaze out over the poppy fields, their colour intensifying in the sunset. I look at my daughters with pride. My eldest so beautiful, her blonde curls tangle with the long grasses and spiral wisps dance on the breeze giving her a golden halo. My middle daughter makes me smile. Mud streaks her pretty face, and leaves, twigs and grass seeds poke out of her hair. Her clothing is tattered and torn from a weekend of adventures. And then my littlest one, so cute and lovely and slightly grubby round the edges. She snuggles in with a sigh and a sleepy contented smile.

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My girls never cease to amaze me with their knowledge and imagination. In this new world of growing technology, they astound me with their abilities. The skills we learned slowly as adults, come so easily to this generation of clever little ones. Times have changed but I don’t ever want my girls to lose the feeling of freedom and wonderment that only getting out into nature can bring. I look at my girls faces, I smile at our woodland paradise, and I think to myself, what a wonderful world.

Yes, I think to myself, 
What a wonderful world.

Oh yeah.

– Louis Armstrong

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10 thoughts on “I see trees of green…

  1. AvatarNeil G

    A beautiful and touching read, about all the things that no money can buy. Love and care only will take us to these places. Thank you for your words, and for the stories of your family and the woods in your care.

  2. AvatarMysteryves

    Such an honour be invited, every time a delight. Beautifully written, reminds me of my own childhood jaunts to the woods, memories stirring memories, and the ripples go on.
    Marvellous!

  3. AvatarAnni Stewart

    I adored reading your words Sylva and imagining myself on this magical walk. Your words created the pictures for me and the words of the song – one of my favourites – played along in my head with the wonderful voice of Louis Armstrong. Tonight I will listen to it again as I lie out in my garden hopefully watching a wonderful cosmic dance in the sky. Thankyou.

  4. AvatarWK Tucker

    My mother loved this song…she loved spring. Spring meant it was time to plant her vegetable garden, time to tend to her flowers and shrubs.
    Thanks for the bittersweet memory.

    1. Sylva FaeSylva Fae Post author

      I have bittersweet memories of my dad singing this song (badly but with passion.) It’s amazing how song lyrics can transport us to another time and create such vivid pictures. Thank you for reading Kathy.

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