If were having coffee, I’d tell you that I’ve been posting a lot here although I’ve been ill. First, a low grade fever and then a very bad body ache. I that it’s all symptomatic of emotional turmoil that I’m going through. But I’m not going to dwell on that today. Rather, I’d love to tell you that I enjoyed looking at little plants starting to grow in the wet weather we’re having, doves walking about (Lucky attempts to catch them!), lots of yellow butterflies, rain lilies and these toad stools that have sprung up in our backyard. Yes, I’m finding peace in wild things.
The Peace of Wild Things
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
– Wendell Berry