I sat at the crest of the hill and turned my face to the cool, damp wind. It rushed through my hair and my heart, ridding me of the day's debris, making me feel gradually that I was being shaped back into my own self again.
Everywhere I looked today were sharp edges on people and situations. I thought about how hard it can be sometimes, sharing the world together, all of us rubbing against each others' defences and sorrows and pains. Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. Ian Maclaren said this, and went on immediately to add, No message is more needed in our days of stress and storm, of selfish striving and merciless competition.
That was in 1897. More than a hundred years later, his words are still so desperately needed.
Sitting on the hill in the windy rain, I felt that I was away from the battle. I didn't have to worry about offending anyone, or walking the right sort of walk, or whether I was wearing the right sort of clothes. I didn't have to hold opinions or come to conclusions. That is the blessing wild nature gives us. Wind and storms and waves and deserts aren't interested in fashions, thoughts, or social politics. They are simply themselves. Maybe that's why so many of us go to the wild for solace. There's always peace in truth.
Wendell Berry says it best of all ...
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.
(Today's photographs, two of my favourites, were processed using Kim Klassen textures. Sharing with Roses of Inspiration.)