|'John's Trees' 17x17" mixed media; Kathleen Faulkner|
We walked for hours. It was a grey day; the ground beneath our feet was spongy, muddy, wet. No sound but the slosh of our feet and birds, birds everywhere. Lost in the thoughts of this place, smelling the salt, the mud, the sea, breathing it in deep, feeling the healing.
The week had been tough, filled with deadlines, overextended commitments, drama and worries. I had been looking forward to this day.
We stopped for a minute when David said, 'Those are John's trees. He planted them. His energy is still here'. 'I can feel it', I said, and it was true. The wind suddenly swept up through the trees singing a song of long, lost memories.. Then we continued on our way.