Cinnia continued down the Woodland Road trail that took her through oaken woods before getting to the wetlands on the lower lake. The oak tree is one of the most revered and sacred trees in folklore and legend. The mighty oak is the symbol of strength and steadfastness. While walking through the woods Cinnia noticed a large gnarled looking oak a little off the path. It was larger than many of the other tress surrounding it. It’s branches twisting and turning this way and that. It looked so old and stately she wanted to sit beneath it for a while.
I’ve always found majestic old trees intriguing. They seem to be filled with personality and life. If you look closely you can imagine faces in the trunks. What tales do you have to tell?
Cinnia settled herself down at the base among twisted roots. The ground was covered in thick moss; she ran her hand along the velvet texture of it. She then gently ran her hands over the knotted old bark. She closed her eyes and breathed.
Breathe in, a big deep breath, then a long slow breath out. The earthy scent of the woods took over. Smell. Listen. Breathe in; breathe out. Birds are overhead singing sweet songs, calling back and forth to each other. Rustling behind me not far from the tree, a squirrel perhaps collecting acorns. An insect buzzes around my head before moving on. The scents and sounds are so soothing.
Focusing on the woodsy aromas and the reverberations my breathing slowed and centered, I felt a slight shift in the energy. My senses became more acute. I heard a voice “Build on the things that make you happy and bring you joy. Walk away from the things that drag you down. Trust in yourself, what will be will be.”
Once upon a time...
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