We step into your verdant world,
the air draws near, a heavy still.
In here the outside ceases,
nothing impinges on us but
this present place. Time’s passage pauses.
Your warm breath passes over us
in shades of photosynthesis.
Fallen trunks like tentacles
lie tangled around our foreign feet.
Somewhere a scurry sounds amongst
the leafy undergrowth. Reeds rustle.
Disturbed a flock takes flight.
Footprints fossilised in sunbaked
mud reveal that others pass
this way but none pass by today.
I half-expect a roar of some
tyrannosaur to rend the peace
with bloody teeth and gaping jaw .

A walk around the lakes in Lea Valley today felt like stepping into another world.
(31.05.26)

© Ben Quant 2026