THE PEACE OF WILD THINGSWhen 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
I recently stumbled upon this special poem. I found it on the same day my sister, Kathleen emailed me this photograph of this colossal heron taking off at the river. She is making a beautiful life for herself. One of the things she does regularly is to get up at dawn and go down to the river for a connection to nature. She plays her wooden flute and sometimes takes photographs. I believe this poem was written for her.