Sometimes I forget what the breezes felt like on my long rambles in Wisconsin. More than anything else, it scares me most when I can't remember the joy of those rare southerly winds blowing wildly across the farmlands and over the hills.
Sauntering seems to not exist in this city. Aside from the safety issues of zoning out while you are walking by yourself, the city doesn't give itself to the wildness of the world like it does in Wisconsin.
We are coming home soon for a short while and when we do, I plan to take in my fill of the snow covered hills and the still quietness of the snowfalls at night. It seems like a dream, the night that 3 of us went wandering into the woods to cut down a Christmas tree, and as we did, lost each other and didn't seek to find one another. We just played alone amidst the trees and the bright darkness that comes with the moon reflecting off the snow.
How I miss the seasons changing and marking the years and time as it passes! There is nothing but the same down here. And though I know this is where I am for a while, I can't help but wonder if that part of my heart that I left with the Wisconsin land will ever return to me, for there are many beauties and wonders here also, but they seem to not replace the sanctity of the Falling leaves or the floating snowflakes or the bubbly clouds right before a storm.
Return me to that place someday, I can only pray.
...I've been reading way too much Thoreau.
2 comments:
i can't wait to see you.
we'll bare the cold together.
Not too much Thoreau, unless it causes you to forget that place of beauty within, that secret place wherein you can meet Jesus and be alone with him, despite the noise of crowd and city.
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