Hunting in Kirstenbosch

Yesterday morning I went on a hunt for images in Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens. 
Not quite Newlands forest but very close to it.
I want to enter a few photos in their centenary competition. 
This walk was slow and with the intention and feeling of a hunt.

I once met a bow hunter, one of the few who were licensed to do this in South Africa.
He told me to hunt an animal in the wild with bow and arrow you have to get very close. In fact you have to feel, move and smell like it.

My walk was a little bit like this kind of hunt, feeling into and becoming the garden. 
Appreciate what images it wanted to give away to share.
Here are some of them. 

Coming Back

It was raining heavy last night. I was so much longing to come back to the magic of Newlands Forest and the rain did not keep me away.

Water brings out the color. Everything looks clearer.

An ancient tortoise appears.

Trees making love.

Magic eyes are watching.

A tree gently touching itself in quiet pleasure.

Moss grows like pubic hair.

Monsters are crawling through the wood.

Between the trees I can look into a magic world.

There is a walk way in the distance leading out of the past.

A past full of destruction and chaos...

gets washed away. Water is gushing down the mountain. 

New life grows out of the old. Change is coming.

Spring presses out new growth....

and the first flowers enjoy the wetness.

I love this forest, the tall eucalyptus just as much as the magic of the Fernwood trail.

This forest speaks to me and I will be back to listen soon again.

Mixed Feelings

I returned to my beloved forest on this amazing autumn day. Nearly 5 months of absence, 5 months full of intense experiences. Two visits to Germany, an operation and the death of my mother mixed me up.
Newlands forest greeted me with a beautiful sunrise.

I pass an old rusted valve, water seeping out, mixed up and blocked.

Going deeper I am greeted by perfection.

I find tiny treasures along the way.

At the old tree on Fernwood trail is a mysterious black pebble in a sand stone rock. Some lichen grows on it. Nowhere else I have seen something like this.

But in the deep forest there is a constant battle happening.

The fight for light, upwards towards the sun.

There are many worlds in the forest. The fly lives in a crystal world.

Rising, blockage, perfection, treasure, mystery, fighting, and and many worlds. Mixed feelings.

Imprint of the Forest

Bright blue flowers like the blue I see with my inner eye were greeting me when I entered the forest this morning.

I stopped thinking and started sensing.

So good to be back in Newlands.

I had a busy week full of trouble. It was a week full of encounters with bad or evil energy. I saw and experienced some hollow humans, emptied by tick, alcohol or other stuff. I met dangerous predators and people not to trust and their victims.

The forest makes me quiet and stops the thoughts circling in my head. The forest makes me trust my intuition.

It has an imprint of the river of life. 

Even in a dead tree I can see this flow and there is new life growing everywhere. 

This life energy is constantly busy creating. Creating and knitting a new plant from water air and light.

Only human beings leave their rubbish behind. An old saw mill used to exploit the forest is just left to rot and ready to be taken back by the forest slowly.

Slow Forest Magic

I have been longing for the embrace of the forest. I have not been on a walk for a month.

Today was a magic foggy morning and my magic Newlands forest did not disappoint.

The air was moist and full of fragrance. No wind and I can feel the spirits are all around. 

A  giant fern from an ancient world stands as guardian of the dark underworld.

Trees dance a slow dance. They take years to embrace a hard stone. 

The forest has its own time. There is no hurry. It was still. Every few minutes a leave falls to the earth and I can hear it fall. No haste, lots of time to love. 

On my way down I see a pair of frogs making slow love in a pool of mountain water. 

I am home. God and goddess in me.