Slowly Beats the Heart of the Forest - The Way of the Buzzard

As the snow gently settles a blanket of light upon the land nature is slowing down. Right down.

Long nights encourage longer sleeps. Much of life from Bluetits to Birch trees conserve their energy, knowing the secret of rest. Hunkering down is the way of winter.

The hoary song of Mistle Thrush ripples through evergreen mists, Coal Tits, looking incredibly vulnerable in their smallness, tweezer nutrients from seeds as a rusty Roe Deer lopes in the shadowlands between the worlds of man and mystery. Not one of these folk know what tomorrow will bring, neither the winged ones, the four leggeds or the tree people, but they carry on being beautiful and elegant despite the bone shivering cold.

Concerns of what the next sunrise may bring, or the next moon, or the spring equinox don’t weigh heavily upon them. They go about their work of being Fox, Squirrel, Fir and Hedgehog. Knowing that the way of nature has seen their kind through to this point they follow their ancestral callings and live their lives.

Their resilience comes from a connection to all that is. Invisible threads of unknown magics weave between each and every one of them, entwining them into the great being that is ‘life’. Tuned into the rhythmic turnings of the year and wired to the weather each and every one of nature’s folk prepare, lay down stores, get fat, know when to hide, when to sleep or when to forage as if life depends on it. Because it truly does. For them and us.

mossy green tree in a conifer plantation

There’s something about the heartbeat of the land that words cannot describe right now.

A mystery seeps from the mosses and lingers in the chill breath of the soil.

No one knows the name of this spirit, yet it waits in the enchanted corners to slow down our heartbeat, to bring us solace and bless us with beauty and truth.

Robin knows the days are now getting longer, as do Alder and Fox. Blood and sap are preparing to rise again, to inhale this spirit and wander the wheel of the year. Right now though, as razor edged frosts creep in from the moon drenched hollows and hunger is an every present gnawing, it’s time to hold each other with eloquence and benevolence.

We need to sew ourselves back into this colourful tapestry. To quieten our chatter, feel the stitches that bind us to our neighbours, let the trees bring forth our tears and synchronise our heart beats with the rhythm of the land.

Slowly Beats the Heart of the Forest is a short film I've created to catch the feel of this time of year, we invite you to watch this and share your thoughts below.

About the Author

Jason

Jason has been a visual storyteller all of his life and follows an animistic, shamanic path from his ancestral lands of Anglezarke on the edge of the West Pennine Moors.
Formerly a professional photographer and film maker he now uses his art to help others fall in love with the land that little bit more.