Here is a forest, our forest. Dreaming beneath green pine spires and rusting oaks, the coolness of shade-bathed feet as they stand on the leaf-spattered, needle carpet ground; bare toes sheltered under tiny toadstool parasols. Leaf siblings, higher up, haloed in sunshine as it winds and bends through arboreal barriers. Here we open and close our eyes with each breathed breeze, and find our calm delight.
Words and art © Keren Dibbens-Wyatt 2015