“ The outside is the only place we can truly be inside the world.” – Daniel J. Rice
The shrill call of a woodpecker to her babies in the cavity prone dead tree breaks the slumbering silence of a late spring day that feels more like the first blush of summer. These warm days strung like bright round beads invite one to spend as much time outside as possible and it’s here in the middle of the newly lush forest that I find myself, writing at an old battered picnic table by the baseball diamond where I volunteered as a scorekeeper so many years ago. The large open space with its freshly mown grass soften the distant concrete edges of the city. In between words, I’m watching several crows forage for grubs to feed their young calling from the safety of tall, fragrant cedars. All around me echo the haunting calls of various birds, nature’s own amphitheatre providing the leafy acoustics for the robin, chickadee and warblers.
This soul has been feeling unsettled lately, often tuned into the staccato voices on the news, whispers of worry threatening to morph into a rushing waterfall, washing away those careful wish lists reminding one to practice good self care and have the best summer ever! Hungering to snip the frayed edges and pulled threads of my world, I’m drawn again to the green in the mysterious depths of the forest or near a tangled patch of garden to seek that elusive peace that somehow slipped away without my notice.
I’ve begun to take early morning walks in the park, breathing in the beautiful fresh air has a way of lightening my soul and I often end up at a local market to buy the odd vegetable for that night’s supper, the scent of the produce taking me back to Mexico in a heartbeat. On sunny afternoons, lunch is taken outside wherever there is an empty picnic table or bench, we often end up at the Railway Cafe sitting at the picnic tables there while waiting patiently for our favourite trail to open again mid-month! As we walk afterwards, we are often rewarded with glimpses of nature’s beauty – recently we found ourselves competing with a tiny brown Douglas pine squirrel as well as the ever present black squirrels for the juiciest salmonberries (the first of the season!) in hues of ruby red and pale apricot while strolling down the road to the wooden bridge near the trail to Beaver Lake (and yes, there is a large beaver lodge out on the small lake!). On another walk near Lost Lagoon we were surprised to come upon the rare Common snipe with her very small downy black feathered chick feeding among the marshy grasses seemingly unaware as we watched them underneath the warm sun.
We must take time to head outside amid the green, to allow the unfolding season to bring us back to our wild selves and settle our restless souls…I’m so glad I heeded the call, I’m inside the world once again and my summer looks endless!
The title for this post caught my eye, winking out from a colourful brochure about an upcoming play and when it caught the eye of my dear neighbour Huguette, I knew it was meant to be.