A huge knitted jumper my Grandma knitted and a lunch pack filled with sandwiches my mum prepared, a journal to make a note of my findings and a disposable camera to take grainy pictures of the fairies I might see.
The moss that covered the trees reminded me of tiny islands covering the bark.
Earthy smells and different shades of green broken with burst of colour from wild flowers.
Through their eyes I visualise snippets of my childhood unravel, curiosity filling their little minds.
We could get lost here, lost in thought in meaningless conversation, and simplicity.
Holding my littlest close to my chest I reflect for just enough time to treasure our cuddle as well, without being too distracted. He is content in my arms for now at least. Happily listening to the sound of the birds which is partly over shadowed by the sound of his big brother having a sword fight with the sticks he has gathered.
My hands so big against your tiny ones, new hands, delicate hands.
Hidden deep in the realm of the woodland, we find a den perfect for hiding from the monsters. Francis handed me some flowers he picked and kissed me on the lips, sloppy wet toddler kiss.
I balance Wilbur on my hip the same way I held Francis when he was a baby, remembering the time when he was small but not able to imagine life without Wilbie in it. His chubby little legs tighten as I carefully lower myself to Francis’s level –
“There is a scary monster out there mumma stay here”
Imagination it carries them and guides them into places we can’t see.
Take it all in little one I think as I watch how he climbs over the fallen trunk.
I notice the trees and how the vines intertwine like clumsy embroidery. How the sun creeps through, seams of gold lighting the dark forest floor.
Long patterned dress with thick tights a sort of put together in a rush look. My dad kept telling me to lift my dress as I walked through the scruffy brambles.
I am searching for fairies, I reassured him as I continued to walk ahead.
My sister and I held hands I felt scared for a moment. She caught me looking back to make sure my dad was in sight.
The sibling bond a unique friendship my boys are yet to discover, for now they are working each other out through a series of knowing looks, laughter and play. Life with out Francis is unknown to Wilbs but Francis is still finding his big brother feet.
Francis wrapped his arms around his little brother, not aware of his strength pushing forward and squeezing him closer. The purple hue from the bluebells reflects on their peachy skin.
Take it all in I tell myself.
I didn’t want to leave the forest today I could have stayed for hours or at least until dusk. Two sleepy boys ready to make tracks we leave with the hope of coming back soon.
Francis takes one last look under the bluebells for the fairies, and gently taps the violet petals convinced he might get a gimps of one.
Wild Flower: a flower growing freely without human intervention.
I watched Francis’s imagination grow here.
My soul rested. My heart full.
Beautiful photographs taken by my lovely friend Gemma.
Find her work here –
Instagram – https://www.instagram.com/gemma_butterworth/
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She has such a unique style and her ability to capture the sentiment in everyday is truly inspiring. She is my soul sister xx