The ground near the Embrook was teeming with life; up from the soil swarming and in the boles of trees and plants, wings aflutter. Standing in the damp meadow my legs sinking up to the knees while all around me hummed the hurrying, feeding, living avatars of the source.
Humans came and found the lifeswarm unclean. They sterilised the ground and buried the soil.
I was standing then upon a broad black highway, white lines stark against the new tarmac. Trains approached from every direction and only a couple of humans footed it across the road.
Between Samhain and Yule the Waters tend to cover us. We dream deep.
Pic: from this great site