The wind was rising, so I went to the woods.
So begins Wild Places, by Robert MacFarlane, which I'm currently reading.
I like that.
"The wind was rising, so I went to the woods." A man after my own heart.
The sun was shining, so I went to the woods.
It was a full moon on a snowy night, so I went to the woods.
The leaves rattled on the autumn trees, so I went to the woods.
Spring was breaking through all over, a gentle shower dripping from the trees, so I went to the woods.
What possible reason could there be for not wanting to go to the woods? The woods are ideal places to meditate, to hike, to explore, to write, to inspire, to pray, to dance, to be.
As Thoreau noted:
I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.
Or Burroughs:
Every walk to the woods is a religious rite, every bath in the stream is a saving ordinance. Communion service is at all hours, and the bread and wine are from the heart and marrow of Mother Earth.
Yes, yes, yes, let's go to the woods.
7 comments:
Beautiful.
One problem with quoting Thoreau, is that he was a hypocrite about "living deliberately" in and among nature. He spent most of that period bumming meals off of neighbors and family I understand.
Thanks, brd.
Mark, you have a point. It's why I much prefer the actual example of the Hubbards of Payne Hollow or of the Nearings, for instance.
Still, Thoreau wrote well. He expressed ideals and thought in an elegant and deliberate, well-considered, rational manner and I can certainly appreciate his deep thoughts. Even if his Walden was a short-lived, flawed experiment, he gave it a shot and captured the ideals of simple, self-sustained living well. For this, I am grateful.
After all, I am not where I want to be, either, when it comes to living deliberately.
Dan,
That's a little reminiscent of the philosophy of Rousseau, who had an abundance of personal flaws, but whose philosophical writing is often sharp and still relevant.
"Deliberate living", kind of like monasticism? ;)
I feel this way about the streets of Brooklyn. To be in the midst of the world is a very spiritual thing for me... until it passes midnight. But then that's true in the woods, too. In fact, 8:00 at night in the woods can scare the spit out of me.
Thanks, Mark and I'll pass on getting back on monastic living...
Thanks for stopping in, Feodor, you're welcome back anytime. In this Wild Living book I'm reading, the author said he began by asking friends and acquaintances to point out some of their "wild places," and one of the first answers was something along the lines of "The pub district, just after closing time..."
Your Brooklyn answer reminded me of that.
You've reminded me of Norman Wirzba. We were at graduate school together but I was unaware of his writings.
I'm glad I stopped by. Thank you.
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