Time to muse
Others who think of themselves as very very important have a hard time spending time in nature because we lose our place. We think we dominate in the office or in the company. We are powerful in the back of the taxi or the front of the plane. We stand tall above others in the meetings. But honestly, a bit of nature walking reminds us of who we are. Honestly. We are just grains of sand, leaves of grass blown by the gentlest of breezes.
The great American poet, Walt Whitman, wrote in Leaves of Grass,
"As I ponder'd in silence,
Returning upon my poems, considering, lingering long,
A Phantom arose before me with distrustful aspect,
Terrible in beauty, age, and power,
The genius of poets of old lands,
As to me directing like flame its eyes,
With finger pointing to many immortal songs,
And menacing voice, What singest thou? it said,"
Whitman goes on in the poem to laud the military, but I thought again of his capacity to consider. His need to self-analyze and the almost inability of today's persons to stop and muse. To think.
Nature allows us that, if we will stop along the way.
Read a poem, take a photo, give yourself to silence. It really won't hurt you today. Or any day.
Welcome to the rest of the field of grass.