I went on a journey a weekend ago. I went up north of the city. There were fields of tall wild grasses, white butterflies, and prickers. And perched on this land was a big, old, white house and some red barns time had forgotten. I camped on the hard ground behind the big, old house with a purring cat and my long john's to keep me warm. And I woke up to morning dew on my tent and sunshine on my face and I breathed in the air and heard the quiet breeze through the green leaves, the crispness of fall just on the edge of everything. Coffeeless and in silence, I saluted the day with my yoga practice and at the day's end I sang aloud with strangers around a welcoming fire. By the end of my stay I had new found friends and did not want to leave my dear old friend nature to return to my city mouse ways. When I did return, however, I found my new friends were my neighbors all along and that nature was here I just had to look for it harder. With my heart reopened to the world around me and my senses heightened I wanted to smile at the world, and I did. And I will again tomorrow. I do wonder how the fields I left behind are doing, but I know they are happy where they are, and for now so am I, besides I know where to find them again when I need them.
