Grabbing my heart in the wild country

Oct 6, 2010 by

I am one who seeks my self outdoors.
Nature is gracious in its sharing with me. And, I am appreciative.
Its gentle spontaneity, capricious temperament, easy conversation and ceaseless energy offer me respite.
When wandering in fields and meadows, through forests and deserts, along shorelines and foothills I know I will hear inner sounds of my own.
I have learned when I am in the open spaces I can see beyond my physical world to my internal world.

For it is here the quiet journey of a breeze tripping through leafy tangled branches causes me stop. There is so much to know in catching the play of that tiny breeze — a whisper, a rustle, a languid hush.

The nimble tap dance of the talented creek along the pebbly stones. If I close my eyes for a moment too long I have to push down the urge to applaud the performance, every time.

Last night though, it took a long, long time for a grin to leave my face. You see, a fat raccoon decided maybe he needed to wrestle me for just whose piece of apple it was he was scamperin’ away with, his or mine. Well, I’ll tell ya’, I looked at his clear-eyed determination behind his tailored ebony mask and had to chuckle. ‘Cuz, dang! I knew I’d lose that wrestlin’ match, even if I’d wanted that ol’ apple!!! So, he’d better just hurry, scat off and have his snack. But, as he left, I offered him a little smile of respect for his wily ability to make his way in his rangy world.

But, I’ll tell ya’ there’s nothing in this whole world that pulls me closer to center than looking up at the sky through the majestic magnetic silhouettes of huge powerful trees spiring upwards. Taking in the vision of the tops of an immense forest scraping the sky allows me to breathe with the peace of knowing how large and small is my passage on this voyage we are all taking; it reminds me how quickly it docks and helps me remember we will each disembark.

Oh, but that same sky at night, well now, that’s just such a different space. A huge shadow land above, deep, dark, black, blue and that inky canvas is freckled with tiny illuminated dots we call stars. From our very first mesmerizing childhood gaze at them they sparkle our imagination and light our dreams. And, on these fireballs, so far away, we lovingly wish for all manner of magic we long to twinkle in our lives.

I guess sometimes we forget our lives are the magic.

Photo Credits: Valli Keller

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