The Coombe Valley Nature Reserve is a relatively small but beautiful piece of woodland in Staffordshire, England. It has many very old trees and is a place where you can find peace and tranquility. A few years ago I penned the following words while sitting in its midst:
I hear the distant throb of engines carrying passengers seeking relaxation and pleasure on their holidays in distant climes and it is somehow soothing.
I sit beside the twisted, timeless limbs of an ancient oak, dressed in green just now to drink summer life from this pure and gentle air. Limbs that have slowly grown through storm and flood, through frost and shine, are surrounded by a power strong and certain, slow and sure - a power that bids me pause and examine my life. Why do I not make more time for days like this? Would my meditation not be more effective in this sylvan glade than sitting in a chair at home?
The oak tries hard to understand our rush and bustle but from his long-lived pespective, we are transient, almost as ephemeral as the birds and insects that dart among its branches seeking food and shelter.
Beside the twisted oak stands a tall, slender and graceful silver birch. The energy here is quicker, the understanding of our lot is closer - and yet - the heart of this fine tree beats with a certainty of its own destiny and purpose which is foreign to most of us. It knows it has been called to raise its head towards the sky in this one spot. Constantly overshadowed by the oak, it nontheless creates a slendour all its own and does not feel intimidated by its old and gnarled neighbour.
In this ancient woodland all blends in perfect harmony and purpose. Each leaf dapples the light in its own special way, individually contributing to a common aim that is the expression of pure, unconditional love.
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