As I sit on this cold bench
In nature,
Twilight rising,
Feeling the crisp biting air,
Smelling the dampness of the leaves,
Sensing and finding solace in the space all around me,
I am reminded of a similar November evening as a child,
Where I stayed out as long as possible on my own,
Imagining adventures,
Enjoying the moment,
And the assault on my senses,
Until too much dark had descended,
And mum called me in.

Only the smell of a bonfire is missing now,
And no one to call me back in.

I finally got to walk alone in nature once again,
And experienced that longed for peace and stillness,
And space between my ears,
Other than tinnitus’ static,
And tinged with sadness and grief of course,
And short lived till my brain kicked back in.
But for awhile it was bliss.
I heard the birds sing,
The waves reverberate against the pebbly beach,
I felt the wind gently caressing my cheek, and
The warmth of the sun just before it dipped below the cliff,
And saw the rise of the near full moon shining out like a beacon
To lost travellers the world over.
Not even the sound of voices in the distance disturbed my stillness
In that moment.