Leaves of Poetry: Day I

Steadily cantering through the misty solitudes

Welcome to my first seasonal notebook: Leaves of Poetry!

If you cross the road behind our house, you’ll find yourself in woodland. These woods stretch on for some way, and each different pocket of the woods has its own personality. There’s the Larchwood, the Pinewood, the Greenwood, amongst others. If you walk down the main path in the Greenwood, you’ll arrive at a crossroads with paths leading to the castle and to the river (eventually). And in this green, green wood, there is a very large Douglas Fir.

When we moved into our house several years ago and first discovered the crossroads and the Douglas Fir, there was a pile of white pebbles at the foot of the tree, each marked with runes. They had been left there by children, either through the school or possibly the Cubs or Scouts, who meet in the Village Hall behind our house. I loved the runestones, and I loved the idea that they had been left there with no explanation, for people to find. I squirrelled the idea away.

When I was deciding which theme to have for this, my first seasonal notebook, I thought back to the runestones. Then, in a stroke of serendipity, Ann Collins mentioned writing on leaves in her latest microseasons post. I have been enjoying Ann’s posts throughout the year (loving, as I do, the concept of microseasons), and it occurred to me that this might be the perfect autumnal theme.

One of the most wonderful things about having two young girls is that you can’t help but start seeing the world through their eyes. I have always been fortunate enough to retain a sense of magic about many things, which has seen me in good stead for the times I find myself creating all sorts of special moments and planning exciting adventures (currently, Auri’s breakfast is set-up and prepared each weekday morning by a brownie, after a recent bedtime story, The Brownie of Ballharn Hill). I was keen that my first notebook would be something that Auri – who has just started school – would be able to help with, and enjoy.

And so, I decided that my first theme would feature collected leaves that would be inscribed with a handful of words. I decided to quote the poetry of others, focussing on poems I have particularly loved over the years. These leaves would be left in the woods to, ultimately, fade and rot away throughout the season.

I like the idea that they might be found but that they most likely won’t be spotted, and that they won’t last (unless someone quickly collects them and preserves them in some way). So much of what we do now lingers on and is recorded somewhere – creating something deliberately impermanent feels refreshing, like baking. Something to be consumed and enjoyed, but not necessarily to be kept forever.

Today is the first of thirty days of Leaves of Poetry. I decided to quote from Rudyard Kipling’s “The Way Through the Woods”, as it has a special meaning for me in relation to the woods.

Throughout this month, I will share an image a day, with brief details of the poem and its author. The posts will be much briefer than this introduction.

I hope you enjoy following along.

Lydia Crow
The Highlands, Scotland