Walking through a wood, listening to and watching the nuances that color its sylvan voice, is like observing a soliloquist on stage. Though present, we remain distant, observing from a position of safety. Affairs of life slip into restful slumber, senses breathe again, clarity emerges. Perhaps you will experience something similar in reading the reflections of my wanderings. Perhaps you will find it a sort of sylvan soliloquy that helps you make sense of your own story.
syl • van
syl • van : of, relating to, or characteristic of the woods or forest
Saturday, October 27, 2012
A Quiet Place
I found a quiet place by a stream today, slightly off a woodland path. I had been on a power walk to release stress. But, having wandered into this little haven, I found myself falling asleep though I was standing with perfect balance and eyes open. The stress melted away. I awoke to little sounds: the trickle of the stream, a squirrel on a branch, a bird in the bush. So quiet. So restful. I rode a cloud home, breathing.
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