Light dazzling through the first chlorophyl of the year. Young nettles on a bank next to a sluice. Water falling from lake to stream. A hazel ablaze. Finally, swallows. Balm to my tired soul.
I came across Tor Falcon’s Diary of a Wild Place yesterday and what a wonderful treasure find it is. It certainly raised my spirits as I read his history of the Wild Place.
If only we could just leave nature alone! I once lived near a narrow strip of urban land bordering a roadside in the Vancouver area which was left to its own devices for several years and what beauty I found in that tiny little meadow. So many species of wild flowers and varieties of grass grew there along with huge tangles of blackberry bushes which, of course, my young grand-daughters and I feasted on for a couple of summers. Returning to the area five years later I was saddened to see it had all been mowed down and was now a sort of park with a jogging path through it. It cried out, “move along now, nothing to see here any more.”
Well, I hope the Wild Place remains so for many years to come and that one day there will be giant oaks living there again.