After returning from my dear friend Amanda’s home, I walked into my apt and felt entirely suffocated. Stuffy, stuffy smells of recently cooked meals and being an owner of a beautiful and moody, feline friend. I immediately went to the windows and pulled them loose from summer’s tightly shut grip and felt the rushing in of fresh “almost fall” night air. This season, I love.
Arkansas’ trees will soon become the warmest colors and the mountains will begin beckoning you to come sleep (especially since the snakes and bears and well other animals I’m deathly afraid of encountering in the wild will begin their sleep rituals). This is one of the times I truly cherish living in the southern climate. It is the reprieve from an insanely and murderous summer heat and humidity. Everyone appears more at peace, with tempers less likely to flair and hospitality flowing through the downtown streets.
This week is full of “fall” activities with the return to my Arabic Studies after an over 2 year break, a Sculpture and Fall Festival at the Bernice Garden, and the observance of International Peace Day at the Presbyterian Church on the corner of my street. These activities feel as though they are an opening of myself towards a more willingness to engage in community I am familiar with and with one I have deep respect.
The seasons they are a changin’!
It find it only fitting to include a wonderful poem by Wendell Berry:
The Peace of Wild Things
When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.