Then I decided to surf every day along empty roads through the dust to the small house, hidden in a strip of old wood. Danger of death with arrow on the front door indicated to stay away. Still I turned left into a grassy forest road. The space in front of me was mysterious and bright and light filtered from the left, painting shadow flowers on the floor, but in the back was an unimaginable hole of black.
A tunnel cleared up as you dived further into the green. There I walked, stroked by twigs in "t face, pulled by brambles on my skirt until I had to turn to the right. Barred the way. A white birch was spread in all its winding height and barricaded the road.
A light flickered through the dense growth, a car emerged from the tangled, wild forest. How was that possible? When I approached the familiar resting place, the broad transverse birch as a resting beam had disappeared. A man of about forty chopped everything up, picked them up and barricaded the open space. Between two trunks he stacked birch trunks in a cross shape and fastened everything with twigs and branches so that it closed off the forest like a shaky, stable barrier. We then approached him and inquired about the purpose of his action, whereupon he haughtily breathed that he was making his property inaccessible to intruders, horsemen, and walkers. When did man begin to divide the earth, to appropriate it and to close others off the way to nature that is so available, wild, free, grown free and ordered by herself, which everyone enjoys without payment for entry. Why closed, why not share with joyful, innocent walkers who pass by and are entitled to "sit and see"?
A crazy world full of gripping creatures: people!
We continue along the wild corona escape forest. Nobody can prevent watching. The chaos and wildness captivate and seeing is not hindered by greedy people. Nature unfolds its cycle of rising and falling in all colors and shapes. A never-ending captivating piece, sometimes dramatic, young and fresh, of which I am a part. Our narrow path meanders between broken branches, vortex compositions hanging from trees like giant spider webs. We dive underneath, the fresh green of the birth forest zooms the other side. A small creek that led to a detour a few days ago and required a jump over the water, was now barren and dry. Easy, so you could reach the other side without danger.
All that twisting and bending, you had to pull your neck in to get through, suddenly turned into a wide-open, transparent space that looked way too harmonious and beautiful to be wilderness. It ended with man's hand at work with landscaped forests, avenues full of rhododendrons, beeches, chestnuts and strange conifers like dark shapes in a paradisiacal splendor of colors. The strangely closed gigantic house in the middle of it. . Silent witness to emptiness.
The wilderness is more interesting. The way out comes into view: the long empty cobblestone road, which bends to the right.
For example, I stroll to the side to the heather chapel, an open place where families with children play, rest and old people breathe, where life as it was once again reappears and persists.
Gabriëlla Cleuren 5.6.2020