On Monday, I ran my fingers through diamond water as soft as hair from a month old baby but as fast as an hour glass.

On Tuesday, I watched a figure of a fox darting through a field,as if late for dinner, chatting on his hurried way home to the bracken like an old friend.

On Wednesday, I heard a lonely woodpecker creating her home or searching desperately for food as she thinks of her future family.

On Thursday, I found a river dragon basking in the warm sun, flat on its belly, disguised with gemstone scales. As a brown oak reveals his location by bending and twisting his branches, shining the sun on his small body.

On Friday, I dashed across the river-crossing. As I slip, tall beech trees laugh. I stand up and wander down the path – the beach trees fall silent.

On Saturday I dreamed of woods: where magic thrives and animals make homes; a wood where magic and non-magic meet; a sunny woods of tall beech trees and great oaks.

On Sunday, I felt the warmth of the sun smiling down through the branches of dancing trees like a warm blanket covering my sorrows, lifting my worries and regrets away.