Today, hiking at Callahan S.P., I smiled to myself sometimes when imagining a herd of goats at my heals. This is what I wrote:
I don't know how to describe the breeze blowing across the tops of these trees other than to say it is the forest that is whispering promises of creation-aged secrets. While low-flying planes sometimes drown out this talk, when all is silent, this forest feels a bit strange - like there are words, or thoughts I should know but my mind can't grasp through its self-inflicting fog.
A chickadee flutters and hops from low pine-less branch to ground to branch, cocking its head to one side, perching horizontally, watching me through gray and black and white feathers. "Why are you here?" What a good question.
I can tell you Why I Choose To Be Here, and What I Choose To Do. To strive to make the world better somehow. To live a life that I wholly believe is a good life, or at least as close as possible. To live a lifestyle that is worthy of Nature. To be a producer of beautiful nourishment for my soul and yours, too.
As I look up I notice dark pink buds at the top of a tree, the sunlight illuminating them from behind. This forest is still whispering, now speaking to me. And yet... how I wish I understood! The clouds seem to be coming in. One hides my sun. My feet itch for the trail again.
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