the healing embrace of peace
I've returned to Anne of Green Gables for the first time in years. I read all the others in the series repeatedly, but usually skip the original. Last night, I rediscovered its sweetness, and went to sleep with my mind full of cherry blossoms and quiet, sunlit meadows and a wondering glimpse of the sea. It felt like a healing tonic for my mind and spirit.
I have also been reading Country Chronicle by Gladys Taber, which was published in 1974. It's not quite as bucolic as I'd hoped, but she has some lovely, wise insights ... "We live in a world of noise and confusion, and a good many scientists agree that man suffers from it. We are bombarded with noise from jet planes to riveting machines, from subways to sirens. And I think, as I feel the healing of the winter-morning stillness, that we all desperately need some quietude in our lives. I notice how we scream at parties and shout at meeting and what a tendency the young have to toss bombs and smash windows, and I wonder whether part of this isn't a reaction to frayed nerves."
I agree with Gladys. The other day, we went for a stroll through the village, around the back roads, and along the beach. It was so lovely ... and yet, noise accompanied us the whole way. In some places, the harsh roar of traffic was literally painful. It sounded like rush, and bother, and anxiety.
But there was one moment when we walked beneath the over-arching canopy of a tree, and felt such a sense of being warmly embraced in friendship and peace that we stopped, moved backward, and walked through again to be sure of the feeling. "I do believe this is a much-loved tree," I said. It seemed to appreciate human company. What a moment that was! The loveliness of it really cannot be expressed.
And all those people rushing in their roaring cars will never get to experience it.