Desperately seeking a refuge from the mind numbing toxicity of things that are and may always be, she Craiglists her time looking for a place that might need her untrained, naive passion to protect and nurture a piece of land, and in doing so, protect and nurture her own frail psyche. She diligently scans the various sites designed to lure and intrigue dreamers. Hunkered down in her bubble of passivity, she listens to the call of nature, presuming she can Thoreau her way into a more peaceful and serene life, taking on the pretense of healing the land, when in reality, once again, nature is called upon to save another sorry soul. Nonetheless, she feels somewhat content in her endless pursuit, reminded, site after site, of Henry David’s prescient footnote in his powerful essay, “Walking”, that "in wildness is the preservation of the world". She acknowledges daily her puny presence in the scheme of things but takes solace in the notion that she can and will some day sit under the generous spread of a pine or oak or elm, in some yet to be determined corner of our green earth, with the knowledge that its gift to her will be forever preserved.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment