We walk beneath trees with dinosaur feet. The frosty ground covered with crusty leaves leads us from turn to turn, meandering deeper into this forest we get to call our temporary home. Beds of moss cover fallen trunks, inviting fairies to lay down their heads should they grow tired of sitting in their fungi stools. The branches overhead crack and sway in icy winter winds, and the odd snow flake makes their way through the barren canopy.
We sigh of relief in this haven of tranquillity, away from everything at the other end of the bus ride. Here there is noting but the earth on which we walk, the birds singing in the morning among the gathering of trees… It is a reminder of what it must be like, to just be.