Thoughts on a Misty Walk

Written By Lauren Steele

 

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Photo taken by Lauren Steele.

I have always loved walking alone in the rain, especially in unobtrusive out of the way places where the abundance of beauty is felt in the heart as much as it is seen with the eye. After changing my soggy clothes, I began trying to translate my feelings into words, which I would like to share with you now.

          As I walk through the peaceful mist of

a midsummer morning

among the grasses, wildflowers, and weeds,

the calmness and inevitable cycling 

of life and death,

ongoing regardless of my approval or grief,

surround me with the feeling of being

wrapped in the arms

of a maternal knowing,

inviting me to let go

of the incessant logic of

human progress and

join Her.

 

Mother Earth’s message is an old one

that I have claimed to understand

throughout the peaks and valleys of

an unremarkable life.

But I seem to find the answers and then

lose them again and again,

from one human crisis

to another.

As evolved as I think I am,

Nature reminds me that

I am not.

My fleeting understanding is

but a glimpse of all there is

to Know.

 

What I do know is

I am like a weed.

I grow where my seed falls,

in fertile soil or not.

I am a pioneer species,

looking for space to thrive

in quietly abandoned places which have been

stripped of their perceived value.

I am resilient.

Weeds don’t ask for much in the way of

fertilizer, attention or praise.

People seek to destroy them,

replacing them with others

more attractive or productive,

or so they think.

But weeds will always return to grow again.

Nature has created them with unwavering dedication

and focus on their purpose,

to protect the Earth

by restoring the vitality of the soil that

We need to survive.

 

I am happy

among the weeds, the smell of the soil, the wet of the rain.

This simplicity juxtaposed with

the complexity of modern society

leaves me overwhelmed with the desire to trade

one life for another.

My heart swells with

love and awe,

respect and appreciation for

the timeless beauty of weeds,

their jobs and their journey,

despite human judgment.

Oblivious to my own judgment,

successes and failures,

they call me

Home.

 

This entry was posted in Earth Science, ecology. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Thoughts on a Misty Walk

  1. Beautiful. Just beautiful.

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