As January dawns, the year behind has finally ended. There were bleak nights, broken dreams, and tears aplenty. While there was beauty, there was often grief and loss. It hurt to think of all that had been and all that would never come again.
In the woods by an isolated lake, scant days before continuing the uphill climb through my forties, an elderly dog and I meandered through the branches. January snow was unseasonably absent and there were shocks of green moss and patches of red berries everywhere. A fallen trunk shattered open to reveal the mystery born forth into the world from a single seed left behind by oblivious critters in the woods. The space is sacred and thin as I walk in lands where the natural transcends mere words.
For a while, the woods were all there was in this world. Thoughts of loss waited in the car, but in the woods there was beauty to be found, wonder to behold, and even the simple challenge of not letting the canine drag us into another bog while seeking an errant smell. For a brief hour or two, the world shrank down to a world where the brown trunks swayed only gently as the wind found only bare branches to tickle. In the wild woods, a broken heart could be whole for the eternal but brief moment where two souls simply wandered together.
The wild woods reach out: I almost look for "fair folk" as my heart finds peace.
My first entry in a long time with the D’verse Poets Pub. The challenge of the week is a haibun about the changing of years or what you are doing during this early part of January.
Distracted Pastor Ramblings 
A soothing haibun. The imagery of the fallen trunk, the green moss, and the red berries place me in this natural environment. Haiku at the end adds to the theme of finding magic and respite in the natural world. Bravo!
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Welcome back to the Poets Pub, Rob, and thank you for the walk in the wild woods! The ‘bleak nights, broken dreams, and tears aplenty’ are familiar. We have woods near here and I love to walk in them, but without a dog as mine is long gone. I enjoyed the descriptive nature of your prose, especially the ‘shocks of green moss and patches of red berries ‘, the world shrunk down to ‘where the brown trunks swayed only gently as the wind found only bare branches to tickle’ and the idea of looking for ‘fair folk’ – yes, I do that too.
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Thank you for your kind words. There is something about the deep of the woods that both calls and somewhat intimidates in a way that reminds me of the old stories of the fae. In that old growth national forest with trees far older than me, you can see why people could see themselves just disappear for decades without a trace. For a few moments, it was tempting to wish for such a reprieve. Such places really do inspire thought and poetry.
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When in doubt, go to the woods. But you know that, and have this lovely and healing haibun to show for it.
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Stunning. I relate to nature as a healer. Some may say an escape, but I truly believe it holds wisdom, a base for our existence and the answers to so many of life’s questions. These lines especially spoke to me…” The space is sacred and thin as I walk in lands where the natural transcends mere words.” and ” For a brief hour or two, the world shrank down to a world where the brown trunks swayed only gently as the wind found only bare branches to tickle.”
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