Gaps the Great Storm Left

Yesterday was the 25^th anniversary of the great storm - the hurricane that cut huge swathes across the South of England.

Among the beech this patch of birch
that seems to radiate its light
into the darkness of the beech
the great storm left untouched. Man's gift -
for man it was who made these woods,
and in that gloom no undergrowth
succoured those other forms of life
which here are manifest. Here birch
is thin, allows the wood to breathe,
and welcomes brambles, bluebells and 
a score of other plants. It throbs
with life - the life of butterflies
and bugs of every shape and size.
Among the brambles : burrowings.
And on a sandy patch, a snake -
a grass snake (was it?)- slithers from
my view. Everywhere is movement.
Life forms I cannot recognise.
Yet from the ways they come and go,
their oh, so strange activities,
I'm sure there is a fairytale
enacted here. The birds are part
of it, for they are full of song.

Away from here, are other lands
the great storm cleared, not left to heal
themselves with nature's help, but by
the hand of man. They have regained
their former beechy darknesses,
their former states. I do not put
to you, dear reader, which is best,
but only the point a difference
between the ways of God and man.