Escape to Simplicity by Sylva Fae I'm suffering from experience! I've reached the age where no films wow me - I know all the plots and have seen all the characters. I can usually guess ‘whodunnit’ well before the grand reveal, mysteries are no longer that mysterious, thrillers don’t thrill, and I only get a ‘jump scare’ because of the horror soundtrack. Similarly, days out at supposedly 'amazing' attractions are only thrilling when watching through the eyes of my children. Sadly, I've lost the ability to enjoy these things for myself because I’ve seen it all before. In addition to that, the scenarios my own imagination can conjure up, are invariably more exciting than what is presented to me. Instead, I gain my enjoyment from seeing the reactions of my children, but I do wish for something to make me feel the way I once did. When you pay for entertainment, whether it be a day out, a trip to the cinema, or just watching a movie at home, you have an expectation that you have paid to be entertained. I rarely feel that the money spent was worth the experience or find that my expectations are met. I am seriously suffering
from a modern-day curse of having experienced too much. …Except when I go to the woods. The absence of 'entertainment', of noise, of paying for an experience, is the very thing my soul needs to recapture its magical sparkle. I marvel in the healing power of simplicity, relish the invigorating rush of the breeze that refreshes my mind, and calms my soul, and I soak up inspiration from the beauty of existence. Drifting through the trees, I have no purpose, no expectation other than just to be there. Whereas entertainment provided by technology bombards and overwhelms the senses, the woodland is a gentle balm that simultaneously calms and invigorates every sense in equal measure. The scent of campfire smoke drifting on the breeze mingles with the pine needles and the earthy aromas as my wandering feet disturb the leaf matter. The mulch of leaves blending into cool earth is soft underfoot. Occasionally, I’ll brush my hand over dry ferns, or stop to feel the rough bark of a tree. Overhead, I hear the buzzards cry, watching as we wander through their hunting ground. The woodland is peaceful but certainly not silent. The background buzz and hum of electrical equipment is replaced by the buzz and hum of insects and birds. The crackle and rustle of my footsteps blends with the rustle of leaves as woodland creatures weave through - 24 -
