It’s quiet. Ahhh. I’ve been waiting for this for a while.
The solitude gives me shivers. Shivers of happiness and joy.
This is where I learn to be. This is where I rediscover me.
The cool grass folds beneath my feet as I walk. I savor the feeling of the grass between my toes, the dew that makes it stick to my feet. The feeling of walking barefoot and unencumbered.
Touching the ground— skin-to-earth is one of the best things there is. It’s like I’m back where I’m meant to be.
I smell. Oh, the smells, the smell of the trees. The ground, the sweet grass, the dandelions, the other weeds that are some of the most exquisite flowers I’ve ever seen.
The breeze, I almost forgot. The breeze, is what makes me want to cry. It takes me to a different place, a person, a spirit, a feeling, a word, a world.
I’m held. I’m seen. I’m loved. I’m felt. I’m someplace else.
Wiggle your fingers and the air whistles through each of them. You know nothing’s there, but you feel the wind in the spaces between your fingers and can’t keep from thinking that you feel your hand being held. It’s as if the Holy Spirit has slipped her fingers into yours and your hands are interlocked as you walk along.
Where do I find God you ask? In the untouched, unarranged, and beautiful disarray of nature.
Whatever or whoever God is anymore, I couldn’t tell you exactly. All I know is that nature and trees and grass and skies and wind and scents and anything green and brown is holy.