Emerging from The Forest: From the Trees to the Pavement.

At first it was three months spent locking myself down atop The Blackdown Hills. But no sooner had the near total lockdown come to a close than i decided that some other human company was in order. Cue the Rainbow Gathering and a desire to reconnect with an element of my journey that has provided many happy memories over the last eight years wanderings.

Little was i to realise however just how much the experience was to make me stop to ponder the changing reality i find myself existing in. As i sit here now I find myself asking when the right time is to put chalk back to pavement. Though simple it may seem, a challenge presents itself.

Until now i was quite happy to blow from town to town like a stray spark ever ready to set the world ablaze. In many ways this is precisely what i feel to do in this now. Yet it appears the winding river, the moors, the almost neverending presence in a world about as secluded from this Covid-drama as it gets has made me less willing to mix with the crowds which have overwhelmed my somewhat aspergic reality for quite some time now.

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How many towns can a man pass through, how many people can he interact with before he becomes tired? I simply never realised until the Covid-drama forced me to stop. I'm altogether sick of people.

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To be fair i could simply be feeling isolated. Three months locked down in the forest is enough to test anybodies patience. But a month at a hippy gathering on Dartmoor as well? That's enough to test it just that little bit more.

If not the endless stream of trendy-alternative idealism, then the militantly vegan upset over the boiling of an egg. I simply cannot be bothered with it anymore. And with that said find myself thinking that my time may be better spent sticking to poetry.

That being the case, chalk will be returning at some point to a pavement near you. After all, lockdowns and anti-social ramblings of an isolated poet aside, life moves on along with this Covid-drama.