I had a bit of a travel today and visited some foresty places.
One of them, Serpentine Falls, has falling water. A bit of a rarity in Western Australia’s flat landscape.
It also has rocks. Not old weathered rocks nearing the end of their life like the ones in the desert I have left behind. Solid, hard old rocks which will still be older and harder and even more solid when the sun finally goes nova.
Then a walk through the surrounding forest led me to think of the forests of my ancestors in ancient Europe. Thinking of the Gods which lived in rocks and trees and water. Who inhabited the quiet places. Whose voices are heard in the susurrus of the wind in the leaves, in the chuckling of the little streams and the splash of water landing on water. In the voices from unknown sources which we hope are unknown birds.
Then I saw a sight which made me wonder.
Is this a hamadryad? Do those ancient demi-urges still exist in the old, quiet places where mankind has not yet imposed his careless dominance?