January 24, 2024 was a serendipitous, ‘big magic‘ kind of day. I was writing the first draft of a story about a young women wandering into a mossy forest.

“She took a few deep breaths and felt her body relax. She was almost there. Her special place. Her retreat from the world. Where sunlight filtered magically through the towering trees, dancing on the moss and the rocks in the clearing. Where bluebells blossomed. Where she felt at home.“

At the same time Kathy Bradshaw was finishing her captivating piece of art, entitled, “I can smell the moss”. Neither of us knew what the other was doing. Two days later, this ‘creative collision’ opened the door to collaborate and enter the Canadian Encaustic International Online ‘Waxing Poetic’ Exhibition.

From Kathy’s artist statement: “There is nothing like breathing in forest air – its intoxicating mix of moss, earth, decay, cedar and pine. A forest’s lush array of colours and textures weave a visual feast. There is mystery, there is darkness, and oh there is light. It is the sensual, mysterious and dreamy nature of encaustic that allows me to tell this story best. I also consider Sandi Knight’s touching poetry/prose piece to be the perfect extension of my painting.”

Thank you Kathy for your kind words, support and the opportunity to showcase my poem alongside your enchanting, mossy, sunlit forest.

I can smell the moss

She brought the painting to Gran’s room,
hung it where it could be viewed from the comfort of the bed,
remembering the first time they wandered down, what would become, their favourite woodland path…

Large, lush ferns lined the narrow trail,
sentinels to a sacred spot.

The clearing opened before them,
so welcoming, so magical…

Sunlight danced playfully
on the moss-covered forest floor.

Spring was ebbing into summer,
the greens rich, vibrant, varied.

Bluebells softly swayed
in grass beneath the towering trees.

They paused, taking it all in,
entranced by this mystical oasis.

Gran awoke, surprised to see Sarah at her bedside.
Her face lit up, her gaze moving slowly from granddaughter to canvas,
“Oh Sarah dear, it’s as if I’m there! I can see the bluebells. I can feel the breeze. I can smell the moss.”

Sandi Knight © March 2024