16 April 2013


The solace of nature and especially the solace of trees, is a well described feeling. One of the few Christian bible verses that I know resonates for me because of that feeling. "I will lift mine eyes unto the hills whence cometh my help."

We lift our eyes to the hills, if they are within view; to the trees, if we have any, or to the sky, if we can see it. We lift our gaze above our surroundings, above that which troubles us. 

I found myself outside last night. It was cool and damp with a light misty rain falling. It was the golden hour, that time when the sun, an hour or so before sunset, gleams, slanting across the city, under the cloud cover. Last night, the very air was golden, the trees glowing. 

I don't understand the how and why of acts of terror. I truly believe that most people's wish is to live in peace, free to pursue their dreams. I can’t understand how blowing up innocent people furthers anyone’s aims. 

And, you know what?  I don’t want to understand that.  I don’t want that knowledge in my head.  I’m ok with remaining ignorant of the why and the how of acts of terror.  Some things are better not known.

I do know this.  When we are shocked or stunned or grieving for any reason, spending some time outside, breathing deeply of the evening air, meditating, watching the wind move the leaves of a beautiful tree, we begin to heal.


8thday said...

I so agree with you. One of my favorite poems captures that feeling so well:

The Peace of Wild Things

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.

— Wendell Berry

e said...


Thank you for sharing that lovely poem. It's a beautiful reminder...

Em said...

This is a lovely post.

I think I have spent a portion of my life trying to understand this. I never wanted to, until I had a conversation with a therapist about battering. She changed me around it.

I cannot help but wish it was not the world, these acts. And I am grateful for the reminders of the other parts of the world. The slant of sun. The trees at dusk. The bird sitting on a twig, singing for its own purposes.

the only daughter said...

I've been reluctant to stay current with the news. I was a day or so behind the Boston event and longer behind others.

Remembering the good outweighs the bad. Still. Thankfully.

Still, hard to watch, hear, absorb.