Last week my eldest little dog and myself quietly followed a fox late in the afternoon in the cemetery. It was a grey day, heavy and humid and still before the storm. He was beautiful and handsome and slightly evil looking at the same time and I was a little scared and in awe too. It was one of those precious moments that life gives us.
I often go to the cemetery with the dogs rather than the park. Or I go early to the park because I use my walks for thinking. Ideas for projects, life stuff and finding solutions to problems and just general forest bathing as someone wisely called it. I don’t usually take my phone unless I really need to although this day I wished I had.
So these words are perfect…
“Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone, with not a single friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore unsuitable.
I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds
or hugging the old black oak tree.
I have my way of praying, as you no doubt have yours.
Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds, until the foxes run by unconcerned.
I can hear the almost unhearable sound of the roses singing.
If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love you very much.”
~Mary Oliver