Solace
Last evening Copper and I ran down Folkstone Drive, reversed course at Blue Robin Court and returned via the woods trail. The path was still damp from last week’s rains, and I was glad I wore my old tennis shoes.
It didn’t take long for the woods to work its magic, for my shoulders to drop and my breathing to slow, for my pace to adjust to a non-asphalt stride. I thought about the woods of my childhood, building forts, feeling vaguely disobedient, straying too far, staying too long.
I thought about how long the natural world has brought me comfort, a lifetime of solace in the out-of-doors.
It was as if I had always been walking, always been inhaling the fragrance of smooth, clay-packed soil and marshy creek water. The aromas had been closer to my nose then, since my nose had been closer to the ground. But if I inhaled deeply enough, I could smell them still.
2 thoughts on “Solace”
What a sensuous reminiscence… like many of your pieces, a walking meditation. And the smell of the soil, a deep childhood memory for many of us when we ran almost wild, like the smell of lakes and harbors.
Beautiful post. I was just thinking yesterday evening as I strolled in the near-dusk that being in nature was better than a spa. I could hear water gurgling, birds singing, the breeze moving through tree limbs. Such a great reminder of childhood freedom, you're right.