Stepping outside, the valley dampens sound.
Beyond the cry of geese the air is still
and heavy on the lake, subdued, breath held.

The trees are layered green with moss and fern.
A deer stalks by. I sense the world is his
not mine, we are the interlopers here.

And in this distant moment the earth rewinds
in recollection of its ancient past, remembering
Eden before we walked upon its lawns.

Talking a break within a busy church conference today, we took a walk in Ashburnham’s grounds and stepped briefly into another world.
(12.02.25)

© Ben Quant 2025