a forest
Today I’m travelling. I’m on a train in Wales, looking over red tilled fields, and the sky is quite dark. In the distance I can see a forest, intermittently - I see it then we drive through bushes and trees and it’s gone, until a few seconds later I see it again. I think it’s a pine forest, though I don’t know my trees, they’re packed tall and close and look like they’re about to swallow up the little Tudor cottages dotted on the fields in front of them. Every now and then the sun comes out and it feels absolutely holy. I’m sitting with my cheek an inch from the window waiting for the next sunny moment to soak up the chill I get from looking out at all this dark green and grey.
I’m off the train now. This is my destination but trains on this platform go all the way to Swansea. No one checked my ticket on the way from Newport - I reckon it’s 50/50 I could hop one. I won’t, because I’m here for a reason, but I like to think what if. The clouds look even thicker once you’re off the train and you get the feeling they could come down and envelop you. I feel like I’m standing at the bottom of a big bowl of milk, looking at the sky.