The Forest

I passed someone in the street the other day that reminded me of Albert. Not much, but enough – enough to bring back the memories of those months in The Enchanted Forest, where the heights of beauty – and depths of pain & sorrow – still have found no equal.

There have certainly been other beautiful moments, of course there have – but none so pure, none so honest or… accidental? Is that the word? When no thought went into creating a moment that burst from the hearts sitting around outside – someone picked up a banjo, another joined in with a fiddle – then more & more joining in, and Jemma belting out a song at the  top of her lungs, made up on the spot.

The modern-day hobo’s, going wherever the wind blew then, and of couse with that, in that, me finding my own home with them for those few weeks. Falling in a false love with Striggy, finding an honest, true, & lasting love in Tea, and more pieces of my heart handed to everyone to take with them on their journeys as eventually, in groups or alone, they were called back to the road, leaving the ones who stayed there with fond memories and a home to always come back to when it was time…

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