Isolation Becalms the Soul by Richard M. Ankers

 

Image | Chris F

Isolation Becalms the Soul

 

The modern world rarely affords us the solitude of a few quiet thoughts. We rush and busy ourselves with the inconsequential, worrying and struggling with matters foisted upon us by those little glass boxes so rarely kept in our pockets, giving barely a sideways glance to the world we inhabit. It’s a pity, this forgotten joy. There’s a big world out there just waiting to be seen.

Time to stop. Time to breathe. Grab a coat. Slip on those boots we bought just to pretend. Savour the moment. This moment. We’ll arrive at the next soon.

The crunch of gravel beneath our feet. A garden gate groans from a lack of oil, its paint blistering to the ground like black snow. The car sits in the garage, grateful for the break. But without its navigation, where do we go?

Close our eyes. Make a wish. Turn and walk away.

The meadow is spongier than that luxury Axminster carpet we saved all year for. We fairly bounce our way across the turf and into the sunlight-dappled wood. The persistent knocking of a woodpecker welcomes us inside far more than we welcome the knocking at our own front door by those sellers and hustlers we wish to ignore. A narrow ochre path leads through a bluebell-lined interior that radiates fresh, clean air. The butterfly that skims our shoulder now has no secrets.

Take in every second of every minute and cherish it like it’s our last. Remember the colours, the scents, the shadows, the cool. It won’t be the same next time. What a treat. What a gem of a place.

There’s an arterial stream beating from this wooded heart and, much to our surprise, we follow it. There is no where or how or when, just instinct. This has served us well in our long distant pasts and we reclaim it for our own. We thank God for these boots. They were worth every penny. Not for keeping our feet dry, but for granting us this woodland delight. Even the busy bee is pleased we’re here in our daffodil yellow jacket that lures so enticingly. We laugh an unbridled joy. This simple isolation becalms the soul.

Don’t be afraid. It’s just nature doing what nature does.

We pop out of the arboreal wonderland like a bubble from a bowl of washing up, glad to be free of the viscose surface and flying high. We head towards the sound of the city, our compass point, but our spirits sink with each new step and our newfound freedoms seem less potent.

This is the way. Come back anytime. Don’t forget.

We smile as we sit in our favourite chair, not because we leapt the fence like a schoolchild, nor because our feet ache and are glad to be home, rather, because the moment we close our eyes we’re back. The sun nourishes our skin. The air cleanses our soul. Moment after moment returns. The smile, however, never leaves.

See you soon, says the bee, as the butterfly brushes our lips.

© Richard M. Ankers

Richard M. Ankers

Richard M. Ankers is the English author of The Eternals Series, Britannia Unleashed and co-author of The Poetry of Pronouns Books 1 & 2. Richard has featured in Daily Science Fiction, Love Letters To Poe, Starspun Lit, and feels privileged to have appeared in many more. Richard lives to write. 

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