“When despair 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 for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
– Wendell Berry, The Peace of Wild Things
Lately I’ve been feeling ungrounded, like something is missing in my life. A few days ago I realized what’s up.
For almost nine months I haven’t walked on the earth, only on cement, pavement, rocks and tiles. I live outside the city center and walk along the river and ocean on the promenade every day, but it’s not the same thing as walking upon the softness of Mother Earth. In my area it’s not possible to walk on the beach because there’s been such wild waves and the incline on the shore is steep. When I stand on the pavement and look at the beauty it touches me, but I’m not able to touch it back.
I’m used to living where the lushness of the forest is close by and easy to step into, where my feet bounce off the earth with each step. A place where I can find solitude and quiet right outside my door. I never took that quiet and solitude in nature for granted. It’s getting harder and harder to find in a busy world.
Now that spring has finally sprung Porto has exploded with tourists, busses, and noise. I love the aliveness of the city, but in my soul I’m a nature loving recluse. One day soon I’ll emerge from my winter cocoon, rent a car and drive off in search of places where I can step into the peace of wild things.
