Neil Young, Mother Nature and the Spittle of Glenshee.

What images does the word nature conjure up in your mind?

A hare running through a long meadow perhaps, or maybe walking through a local woodland?

From the stars above to infinite galaxies, nature is a connector of all things. Some might say a female connector as in Mother Nature herself rebirthing every year. Pushing out the blossoms and scattering the leaves in the autumn, therefore lining the womb.

One of my favourite songs is Forever Autumn by The Moody Blues (1978). A magical hymn of the seasons of love. It brings back memories of squelching through the woods on an autumn morning as a youngster with the dog through the miles of trees from Great Missenden to Prestwood in Buckinghamshire.

The deep earthy smell of rotten leaves clinging to you.

The essence of musk left on your jumper by the early morning mist of the Chilterns. The twinkling light spreading its kaleidoscope of patterns across the rich boggy ground.

The smells of woodland stay with you forever. Every time you visit a perfume counter, like myself, you might head towards deep musky tones that remind you of something quite supernatural.

The nature of water trickles through life as it trickles through the memories you hold in that large roundish thing that bobs about on your neck.

From trees to a shell and a pebble-covered beach, water, and life, flow this way and that like blood feeding the organ, the earth. Forever searching and taking residence in new areas.

And then we are back to love and I think of Neil Young's song, Got The Will To Love. Salmon jumping up the stream in Blairgowrie and the journey of this great fish. Having seen this years ago at the young age of eighteen I was amazed at their resilience, the Salmon that is, and also Neils. On a quest to see Scotland that took me from one side to the other. It is a memory that brings bubbles of tears to my eyes as I remember the sad reason for my journey. To escape grief and the end of my father's life. To chuck the pebbles of childhood as far into the river as possible.

At night I stayed in a cabin in solitude and took my sleeping bag out to sit on a picnic table high up in the Cairgoirnes. The blackness speckled with stars warming me along with a mug of hot chocolate. The large bulbous white moon surrounded me with a deep sense of acceptance that only moon bathing can instill deep within the soul. With no noise and just the farmer's distant cottage lights, the nothingness was everything as within the nature of emptiness, there is so much.

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@SonyaTiggy

You may not edit my work in a national UK newspaper and call it your own. I did not realize this is what a copy editor does until my work was reappropriated by an award-winning journalist and copy editor. You are paid for your writing and I, am not. I wonder how many other people's work you have taken and done this with we all wonder.

Ⓒ Sonya Vukomanovic/Lawrence 13/08/2023 All content and pictures included. @TiggySonya