I believe, I believe.

No, there are no fairies in this woodland,

I believe, I believe.

But to see an old ash stump, covered in trooping crumble caps

Growing out of the soft green moss,

Like the ones that where there one day

On the great old black poplar tree.

Thoughts of fairy cities are conjured

And I take off in search of stories.

And though no fairies live in this garden

I believe in the majesty of nature.

I believe. I believe

That nature fills us with marvellous visions

And the glory of that is enough.

(But still, the idea of fairies has its own faculty in my imagination.

A search for stories of magical beings

Float around it’s own little mushroom world.)

Now my childlike joy of otherworld beings

Runs alongside my joy of nature.

The fascinating sights and sounds

That would usually pass most by

Have captured mine fully and I can tell you,

(I believe, I believe)

That I heard a hillside of bluebells

Closing up for the night to get some glorious rest.

(And that sound of gentle raindrops pattering on ancient oak leaves was actually bluebells snapping shut).

A rapturous round of applause at the end of a startling day.

And as my imagination is fed more by amazing reality,

My mind has more space.

In my stillness, one moment of clarity,

Sunshine through a green leaf is a pure light.

Amazing reality offers me more and more each day.

The subtle movements of a tree,

I believe, I believe

Like a pair of lungs exhaling

And inhaling.

Grounds impermanent me.

ljmh Nov 2010

Plas Nant

I feel that I need to write more about the WWOOF hosts Tom and I visited on our trip, and the experiences we had from it. One of my favourites was Plas Nant in Abergywngregyn, North Wales. Plas Nant was also to be our last WWOOF placement so I have a separate attachment to it for this reason. On the surface Plas Nant is just a 2 acre garden with chickens and a veg plot but what proves to be is an up and coming forest garden with an established permaculture infrastructure, all done on a steep north facing slope overlooking the sea. It has a bleakness about it which I really enjoy but in a balmy may it was a wonderland of the old and new of ideas. It was an encouraging place to be.

I had seen permaculture projects on a few occasions by this point but on a larger scale. I had not seen it in action on the small scale. Here the water was taken out of the stream that ran past the house to the sea, filtered to make it drinkable. A compost toilet nestled in the corner of the shed. A real want to learn about how the land worked and the utilisation of this in vegetable production. The use of local resources such as leaf mould from the adjacent ancient oak woodland and forest garden. Johnny the garden's main keeper was thoroughly excited by his new polyculture bed in which the seeds were yet to germinate.

With an extra 1.5 acres of land above the house which is rented from his neighbour, Johnny has been able to extend his experiments further up the mountain and into more sunlight. Here he is replanting the hedgerows, cultivating a larger forest garden as well as maintaining the wildness and the wisdom of this land.

It was here that Tom and I got to learn one of the more exciting skills that WWOOFing can offer, dry stone walling. The jobs leading up this is point were classic WWOOF jobs, clearing brambles, shifting wood and mulching along side some building work like raspberry cane frames, a herb spiral and steps leading up to a bridge.

Being that Plas Nant is situated is on the edge of Snowdonia it is surround by farms that are still divided up by the stone walls that have been in place for hundreds of years. A couple of sections of the wall on this rented land had started to fall down and we were given the job of rebuilding one of these sections led by Johnny who gave us instruction.

We removed the stones that were fallen all around into size order so that one, we could see at a glance what stones we had and two, we had clear access to the wall. To build a stone wall its strength, as with most things, lies in having a good foundation. Massive stones are laid whilst others are placed on top as the stones, seemingly effortlessly, bridge any gaps and lock in with each other.

It amazed and amazes me still that every stone you pick up will some how fit into the right place. you may just need to change or adapt the original plan for that one stone. Some advice that was given to me from Pete at Trigonos is that with 'every stone you pick up, you put it on the wall'. Don't put it to one side thinking that it would be better somewhere else. Just place it somewhere and it will just work. Once Tom and I had sorted out a strong foundation which some gigantic stones the whole wall just seemed to build itself.

At Plas Nant I really felt strong, strong in my body, lifting lumps from granite around was a good indication of this, strong in my confidence in the skills i had gained. Confident in my knowledge and strong in my socialbility - going to live with a different person every other week is a sometime daunting process for me, thoughts of ' what if they are freaks' often entered my head but that lessened considerabley when I learnt that I could deal and more importantly enjoy most freaks being somewhat freakish myself.

Johnny and Jo were brilliant hosts, we stayed in a little dedicated WWOOFer 'hut' at the bottom of the garden, they cooked good food and a lot of it, had a warm and inviting home a wonderful dog, swings that swing out to beautiful North Walian sunsets and a beautiful ethos on life it was a delightful stay.

Jo, Tom and I had a rare experience together when we were out in an ancient oak woodland waiting for badgers. This oak woodland, adjacent to their house is unfortunately grazed by sheep which means that a lot of flora and fauna is munched away before it gets a chance at life. Sheep don't eat bluebells though and between the slender dancing trees lay a thick carpet of them.

To spot badgers in the wild you need to be quiet, still and down wind of them for them to even venture out of their setts. They come out at dusk to hunt and this is the best time to see them. I think that we must have been too smelly and with the wind blowing our scent straight into the sett that they didn't poke their noses out of the sett. Whilst we stood in our motionless silence we heard a patter of what sounded like raindrops on the leaves above but the blazing sun had just set after a bright, clear day, there is no way that the sound was rain. It had to have been the bluebells closing up their petals for the night.

Restlessness and Stillness

So far what is real has been presented as imaginatively as possible, my poetry is my favourite way of expression but I feel that I should be presenting something real in as ordinary a way as possible, a spiritual practise some might say.

My life over the summer months was about the sanctity of chaos. Now, as the leaves quietly turn and drop off the trees I now must turn away from Chaos and try to focus my restless mind as the winter approaches. My situation has changed enough within the maze of 'alternative' living that itchy feet is becoming more and more of a common issue, after all I have been moving about the country every week or two to go and learn, find new things, add to my growing list of discoveries. I miss the structure of the day that wwoofing bought me and I have not yet settled in my new place. I am restless for working my day out in nature and stillness of being in the trees. I have naturally followed on from working with the Buddhafield cafe crew through the festival season to living with them down here in Devon and will be here until Christmas (3 months in the same place is a novel thing). So I am in a house, and its a good house with people I love with stunning countryside around it and I am trying to find a stillness in myself to be OK with what it is that I am doing.

What I am doing is living with a bunch of people that whilst over the winter will be working towards next years festival season, preparing the rituals for the Festival, fixing the cafe kit and revamping the cafe decor along with daily household duties and study nights in Buddhism. This work however has not started as we are collectively apple picking to earn a bit of cash to see us through till spring. Being in the apple orchards is quite a lovely thing, though repetitive, the apple fever set in last week and I was seeing apples behind my closed eyes. Time for a break I think! The guy we are picking for also agreed as we have overwhelmed him with apples that he has not been able to keep up, running out of bags and then containers to out the juice into, tomorrow will be all systems go again! Our cider making man, to deal with the apples that we have provided, has provided us with evening work pressing the apples, an interesting process but again repetitive. Its odd though that at the moment I am outside amongst the trees and yet I am still restless.

What I need to do is find the stillness in my restlessness and the quite in my chaos. This will be my focus over the next few months, to focus on pushing away my ego so that I can be still and mindful in all I do, to push away the doubts and inadequacies that stop me from doing things that make my mind and body happy and to ritualise the same things that make my mind and body happy.

A difficult task and I may make no progress or I could make some either way my existence in a chaotic world depends on it.

My Office Job Hell

I am so glad I am not working in that office anymore..

Shrill ringing echoes in an oversized open plan office
Brings me sharply from my dreaming.
Old tired men. thinking me lazy, useless,
Asking in an accuastory tone for things i have already done.
Motivation slides away, no remedy for reality,
Dreams rot under the floorboards with whatever died there last week.
Through the smell no longer is intensely entering my body,
Death eating at my lungs as i have no choice but to endure it,
Still lingers and cuts my nose.
No matter, my determination to see it through was destroyed on Monday by some
unthinking comment on the work i do unnoticed.
Old men hover, eyes on my back.
Slaps on the arse shudders me to the core
And sexual innuendo filters to my ears
ljmh Mar 2009

Three Distinct Steps.

Step 1 -

Now I am in a place where I have no place,
I have been to many where I cannot belong.
As a drum sits waiting to be tapped through a layer of dust
I sit waiting to be tapped.
For here I have to share but what is it that I can share?
I am still learning.
I cannot talk of my life before,
But I am learning.
I am amazed at what my hands can do.
How much my brain takes on.
I have felted, I have woven,
I have laid hazel and laid under willow.
I have plucked and gutted.
My dear surprising hands, what next?
I can do things, I can share, my ability is there.
It just needs to be tapped. ljmh march/april 2010



Step 2 -

Inspirational Stirrings

Interesting lines in need of attention
And many more to add to my collection.
A single tree in a far off hedgerow
Soft rain on my toes.
I will heat my body up to sweat
And cool it down on damp grass.
I will watch the shadows write these words
That come from depths or outer regions.
Tensions high and thoughts entangled
My work stunted. Stop.

Push the right buttons, write the right phrases.
To tease out the boundaries, over and out.
Nonsenical ramblings and half finished poems.
Wonderful compliments to expand on.
Inspiration stirrings don't come to fruition but get knocked out by numbness.
How to start after months or years of nothingness.
How to stop a battle raging and start again.
People who listen but do they hear,
A fear rising every time its my turn,
It's a choice between truth or tears or
Closing it off and smiling OK
Astrological charts, intuitive thining, intentions and guides.
So much to think apon, act apon.

Stunted again at first chance of expression, fall back inward
So rest it will take a while. ljmh July 2010



Step 3 -

Talking Stick

Within a circle a purba was placed,
An impliment for killing off demons was explained
And off we went in fear or non committment,
To a hasty meditation to bring some clarity.
Eyes stayed shut to ignore the silence
Until sounds of a voice far off in the distance
Started to speak.
Awkwardly subjects raised, feelings said.
The purba clumsily passed and quickly discarded,
On what has already been a difficult day.

This day for me, a return to a state of younger years,
So familiar a feeling I took it happily and
Wallowed more and more, further removed from anything real.
I stopped for a bit to think it all through.
To write it all down and looking back
Over the things gone past, I see this cyclicar pattern
Revealed before my eyes off the pages of a blank writing book.
Familiar scenes unfold before me as I picture myself
alone and attempting to analyse a school of emotions,
And finding the only strong imagery written down
Was the nature of the sun or
The light touch of a raindrop.
A revealation strong but still no progress.

Talking stick continues,
I get handed the purba and asked a passive question:
Examples of cold life and warm life?
And fear bubbles to the surface.
My voice so seldom heard in matters of the heart
Attempts an answer, a trembling first word appears,
Then two tears,
Then a torrent.

Breath meets sob, a collision unmistakable.

A voice almost takes shape.

Hastily the purba leaves my shivering hands.
A blessed relief.

A few things stir in solidarity for
Words spoken about similar feelings and fears,
and allies.

My ally, just discovered, an elegant elastic figure,
With grace much unlike my own,
A green woman, imp like vision.
She gives me strength to feed my demons
delicious nectar.
I remember her simple words, all day forgotten,
Her reassurance and instruction.
And breathing deep and drawing her energy
All about my veins,
I hold my hope in my hands, something now textured,
And relief streams out in an exhale. ljmh july 2010

A Vision of Beauty

A tangle of chaotic hair in the morning,
An indication of hurricane dreams.
A wild glint in the evening
of prowling, stalking and loving.
A mysterious man I'm still discovering.
A delicious hurricane dance
In wild black chaotic night. ljmh 2010

Connections

Leaving was a pretty difficult thing to do, my heart was fluttering anywhere other then my need to focus on the task in hand, which was to move out. Tom was working back in the resturant trade again so he wasn't there to keep me grounded in these last few days of living in our little house in Henley. Grounding myself in times of change was always something that I found impossible to do. Instead I turned into an uncontrollable bouncing ball, knock me off a shelf and that was it, all kinds of diasterous thoughts, explosions of tears, great moments of disbelief and indecision loomed over me but not much relief could be found.

I'll look different in the spring a song told me in a moment of perfect clarity. In that momentI stopped my fantic cleaning of our bedroom and falling onto my bed, 3 years of worry and pain fell out of me and expectancy and excitment wrapped me up safely.

I'm thinking, thinking, thinking.
Too much time to think,
Excitement, hope and passion stirring,
Inspiration reawakening.

But from working, working, working,
Surrounded by people tired and sinking,
Negativity sets in.
It's saddening.

So long to go and so soon to freak out,
No like minds to talk to, no outside source to aim for, no concrete plans to carve.
Just explaining, explaining on deaf ears explaining.
It's tiring, it's draining, is it nothing?

(Is it something?)

It's something, it's everything,
It's got me writing, writing, writing.
Conflict has me creating but keep believing, keep strong.

It's something, something, something. ljmh 2009

Altogether we wwoofed for 10 months and it was incredible. After Christmas Tom and I focused on going to more permaculture projects, more woodland projects and more communities. From mid February right through to the end of May our hosts viewed us as 'professional' wwoofers and gave us independence, creative freedom and some amazing projects to do. From rebuilding a collapsed section of a dry stone wall in north wales to construction a 7 metre willow fence to keep sheep out. From building a polytunnel to creating a woodland vegetable patch from scratch. I have connected with the land and nature more then I ever thought I would. I have discovered my strength and tapped into my wisdom. I have learnt what my boundaries are and Tom's.

I want to send out a massive thank you to all who looked after us, you looked after us well
From that to now and we have been working with Buddhafield. With their cafe at the festivals and at their own glorious festival and now my learning is more concentrated on my spiritual self on my mind. I have faith in my body but my mind is a constantly challenging thing and I am surrounding by people who are challenging me to look at myself in sometimes alarming ways. We have found a community who have moved me to tears and surrounded both of us with love and support at every moment..

A Wonderful Woman in the Woods

Ancient Hazels so long neglected,
In need of human intervention
To increase their lives.
A wonderful woman studies their movements
Their seasons, their cycles.
Serving one aim in her serenity,
To see which hazel tree to lay
And in which puddle of light
It will love,
Strive and thrive.
She finds the tree and it's whip,
Bends it this way and that.
Its pulsing sap reacts to tell her
And allows her to arch it over.
Its aching bark longs for prolonged life and
Tells her again where to snap and where to stake
The whip is snapped almost in two and pushed down into the welcoming earth;
Pegged down for stability to extend new roots.
One whip she takes, been browsed by a deer,
Feels in her hand dry and hot
She give it to me and says
'Feel that, its dryness and heat'
'Compare it to this' and hands to me
A whip the same size, same tree,
Cool and vibrant to touch
And me an apprentice to coppicing
Absorbs her words and the ways to lay,
And play with the tingling buds
Slowly opening to emerging spring.
The wonderful woman with intuition unparalleled
An elegant, strong beech if she were a tree,
Dancing arms stretch out and up to embrace all and protect all
From the wild elements.
Excited I run to the black poplar tree.
Past a rushing river and proud happy willows
Over fallen ashes still rooted and growing.
Black poplar with wisdom to know and
Presence to feel, I bounce on his roots
Elated to tell him all I've learnt.
Before returning to plant tomatoes
For the wonderful woman who looks after the woods.

Let me explain a bit more..

A Summary of what has gone before

A life of work at it's very beginning

Previously puppetry perpetuated

The player unkind in his play;

His pleasure measured by the length of my strings

Which were forever knotted, one arm freer then the other

One foot firmly on the ground.

The other skyward following my eyes, and my thoughts..

LJMH Jan 2010

Its odd how much life seems to be controlled. We are always told that we are free people but I have never felt free, I have never felt connected to nature or myself until now.

I left school and went to college without knowing what would be best for me but because I was told that it would be best for me. I went from college to university because I was told that this would be best for me. I dropped out of university and the sheer panic of still not knowing what would be best for me I decided to go back to another university because I belived that getting a degree was the only way forward. I got a degree and then struggled to find a job that would satisfy me so I ended up working in an office which pulled me so far from my beliefs that I didn't recognise myself anymore.

My naiveity kept me doing the things that people told me I should do, but I found a way out and I went wwoofing.

I now feel creative again, I feel passionate again, I feel free. I wrote a poem when I was 19 which still holds true today and I always go back to it. When I forget it my strings have reattached themselves and have probably got really tangled before I realise that has happened.

You are stardust

If you fell into the void,

Still on that sofa

In that pub with that pint.

Move with a speck of light

and find yourself laughing all night

And now the sun is rising

Sit back and breathe

Doze under flowers

Smoke after hours

And wake to feel the same.

LJMH 2002

Stewards Community Woodland

In contrast to Karuna, Stewards Community Woodland is a more established permaculture project in Dartmoor National Park in Devon. The trees are more commanding and fill every space in the sky. I have nothing but admiration for this project, all the dwellings are built from timber sourced from the woods, all the electricity comes from solar and hydroelectric energy. I learnt so much here, loved every moment of it and it was the first place that treated me like a human being and not just a girl fit only for cleaning caravans. The work was hard but the generosity and kindness of all the people that lived there made it all worthwhile.

A Meditation on Tree Felling.

Gigantic pines standing strong in the fight

Against the hungry cross cut saw

But never a sight to be seen as the saw wins once more.

Weaving a dance through the fallen giants

With a robin on my shoulder, blessing each with the scent of white sage

In and out, round and round and back again,

To the waterfall, that holds all the power.

Identifying a wild strawberry plant and

Almost making fire by friction.

The robin pops in to say hello.

A reality, a woodland community, an aspiration.

Trees so tall, so commanding and healing

In and out, round and round and back again,

I’ll follow the tunnel through the web of blackthorn,

Past the jurassic ashes,

And sit in a birds nest with you

To take in the breathtaking view.

Karuna

It was in Karuna that I first felt truly apart of the life we had chosen. The fear and anxiety of untangling the knots had passed and although they still come back periodically to haunt me the serenity of Karuna stays with me also.

Karuna, a permaculture project in Shropshire is full of young life and inspirations. Its creators planted 7000 trees of different varieties four years before on local arable land. From the tallest of their Silver Birches at maybe 10 foot tall to the smallest apple tree saplings, the place has a playfulness to it and the devotion laid upon it is clear to see.

What I learnt at Karuna was to play at all things, to make wines from whatever what abundant in the hedgerows, that elderberries smell like potatoes when covered in hot water, to soak rose hips to release their flavour at least 24 hours before use. I learn to mulch and it induced my need to know about the medicinal value of herbs.

Permaculture is seen as a revolution of gardeners, its about sustainability and creating a low impact self sufficient lifestyle that works with the land it is situated on and not against it. The locals of where Karuna is situated have not taken to Karuna being apart of their community and in protest they have thwarted all planning applications, stolen seed heads and even poisoned their young saplings.

I am not going to dwell on the problems that Karuna are facing but to praise the project for its tranquilty and originality and to wish the creators luck in their future. Please visit their website: http://www.karuna.org.uk/ and read about what they do first hand.

Karuna was the third wwoof host we spent time with, after this we spent more and more of our time in woodlands and we have fallen in love with the woods and all they have to offer. Karuna put us into the right frame of mind for all that followed and our last wwoof host in Kent just before Christmas was a true test of our resilience to living outside with nothing but a bender for shelter and a fire to cook over and warm ourselves by.

Music, Loving, Laughing and Dancing

Last week, whilst enjoying the last few days of 2009, surrounded by four delightful puppies who seemed to grow in intelligence and confidence in the days we were looking after them, I stumbled across my horoscope and its predictions for my decade ahead. I say I stumbled across it, I actively looked for it, skipping almost instantly to the back of the magazine to see what pearls of wisdom it could offer me. The low self-esteem part of my being likes to hear people, albeit voiceless words grouping me with a plethora of others that happen to be born under a certain star, adorn me with advice and compliments.

This particular horoscope offered me the usual advice on money and relationships but its finishing note said that towards the end of the new decade I could start to expect music, loving, laughing and dancing.

Surely I should expect this everyday of my life?

Thankfully I do not take horoscopes as gospel and would will not wallow in the shadows until late 2019 comes about where the gift of music should be bestowed on me but it got me thinking about the last 5 months of 2009 and how I have experienced more music, love, laughter and dance then I have in a long long time.

5 months ago my fiancee and I left our 'ordinary' lives to wwoof around the UK. To 'wwoof' is to volunteer on organic farms, in woodland and permaculture projects in exchange for food and accommodation. We took with us a beautiful big black van full of essential kit, treasured possessions, facilitators of joy and many books. Vanny has served us very well. What I left behind was an admin job in an office which was slowly eating me from the inside out. I don't miss this job. I do miss some of the people I worked with.

So as I sit here in my mum's house on our temporary break from wwoofing as a fresh inch of snow falls each hour. I look forward to the next leg of our adventures and also look back on where we have been.

Here are the stories, the music, love, laughter and dance, the poetry, the aches and pains and the joys of being on the road.