the trees that speak to us

maple leaves on tree branch in autumn garden
Photo by Marta Wave on

Through the fields we go with dresses

An inch of mud that stains the bottom of our dresses

Wishing we could talk to trees

And dreaming of the things they’d say.

Would they tell a story of a sweet romance

Or of the Austen girls that bounded by?

I wish that I could speak to them

And hear the tales that they would tell.

I live very close to where Jane Austen was born. I sometimes go running and pass the church where her father was rector and it’s lovely to stop and remember the fact that Jane could well have stood in the very spot that I am standing on.

I’ve sometimes found myself out on my runs through the fields, wondering what the trees would say if they could talk. They would probably have seen Jane bounding past in the same way that Elizabeth Bennet would have done so.

I also used to work in a forest and I sometimes felt like the trees would whisper as I walked through, especially at night when I could hear them creaking in the wind.

Trees are so permanent and so romantic. They offer shade in the heat of the day, and they beg for lovers to carve their initials in their bark. They must hear and feel so many whispers of love and hissed arguments.

I feel so lucky to live out in the countryside and to have so much literary history so close to me. To have rested under the same tree that Jane may have also sat below is such a beautiful thought and I wish that they could tell me everything that they have seen.

Much Love

Rachel xx

Drunk Dial (a poem)

When I was in active alcoholism, the drunk dial was the bane of my life. I would wake up in the early hours of the morning feeling like I’d licked a carpet and having to reach for my phone immediately. My first thought was always about how terrified I was that I had texted a guy or emailed my boss. It was a humiliating and scary time.

But these days I am free of that and I’m really keen to help others who are struggling with the same issues that I did. It is a big part of the reason why I started this blog and I hope that it will also motivate me to stay on the straight and narrow. It’s a serious illness and it needs to be treated like one.

However, the drunk dial does have some comedy value and I think that everybody needs some fun in their lives so this is my take on a subject that used to bring me out in cold sweats.

I didn’t mean to grab the phone,

I heard the sound of that ominous tone,

But I won’t recall this when I wake,

I’ll forget the mess that I can make,

After one too many pints of beer,

When life’s all rosy and full of cheer.

I won’t remember that awful text,

Or the old flame that I rang next.

I’ll see it there upon the screen,

The words I wrote that were so mean.

The dawn will bring an awful pain,

And towards myself I’ll feel disdain.

I’ll wish that I could take it back,

And I know that I will get some flack,

For what I said when I’d had some wine,

and thought that texting would be fine.