19 May 2014

The Peace of Wild Things

Just got back from Assateague. It was, as always, lovely.Even when the weather is raging, it's beautiful. It was misty when I got there on Wednesday evening, but off in the distance, there was a pony in the marsh, grazing, and it was a soft welcome. When I left yesterday morning, teary-eyed because I hate to go, hate the drive home, desire--again--to move down there, there were large flashes of white, too large to be egrets, but rather, ponies.

I first read it a year or so ago, and it very much explains my love for this place. I thought some of you might enjoy it. And I urge you, this summer, if you need it, find your own place to experience this peace.

 The Peace of Wild Things
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
 I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
  who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief.
I come into the presence of still water.
 And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light.
For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
— Wendell Berry


Annie said...

Love that photo of your two favorite people!

Carol said...

It sounds like a magical place, Rachel--I've never visited, but hope to some day...

How sweet is the photo of your dear daughter holding her dad's hand as they walk through the woods!

I do my thing and you do yours. I am not in this world to live up to your expectations, and you are not in this world to live up to mine. You are you and I am I, and if by chance we find each other, then it is beautiful. If not, it can’t be helped--Frederick Perls