Madrigal is the name of a village in Spain where I lived off-grid. Surrounding my property was a dark wood, which I slowly cleared of all the fallen and dead wood, keeping me warm all through my first winter there..... the following spring was glorious and early. By the end of March the floor of the previously dark wood was alive with dappled light, wild flowers and a natural spring had reactivated. This poem took me back to that precious memory. Thanks.
if we didn’t have the dark woods, would we notice the beauty of the light woods? maybe both are a blessing?
Madrigal is the name of a village in Spain where I lived off-grid. Surrounding my property was a dark wood, which I slowly cleared of all the fallen and dead wood, keeping me warm all through my first winter there..... the following spring was glorious and early. By the end of March the floor of the previously dark wood was alive with dappled light, wild flowers and a natural spring had reactivated. This poem took me back to that precious memory. Thanks.