Solitude

I crave for the balm of Nature, the anodyne of solitude, the breath of Mother Earth.

This past month has been filled with anxiousness, fear, trepidation,  hope and solitude.  I'm reminded to take one day at a time, to control what I can and let go of what I can't.  I'm more successful at those intentions on some days than others.  

I've been taking to the forest, the farm fields, hills and gravel country roads on daily walks with the dog.  For most of the past couple weeks I haven't felt 100% and energy levels have been low.  I've had some kind of bug, a cold or something.  So I'm taking my time, walking slowly, taking as much in as I can.  Neighbors farm fields  are just starting to sprout, so for now, it's like walking a lawn-easy and aimless to some degree.  These fields also have well worn rounded hills where I can perch high above the surrounding flat countryside.  I can see the Highground, the Neillsville Mounds and my beloved Levis Mound 12 miles distant south.  

So I sit.  I've placed a few old chairs here and there so I have a modest destination to each jaunt. A spot I can sip coffee, pet the dog, stretch my legs and listen, think.  Purposeful mindfulness I've heard it called.  That's probably the biggest help during this isolation.  

Today was heavy fog.  I wanted to get out early and make a few pictures in this atmosphere, so it was out the door just as the dawn opened up.  Nothing but bad news-an election day that should have been postponed, but was fought by some to remain putting people at risk.  I'd made my thoughts known in emails and FB, but the tiny town hall down the road had cars already by the time I passed by.   Continue walking, head to a chair I thought.  

I approached from behind, the rain slowing enough I could tuck away the umbrella.  The white wire chair waited-looking east on a small rise 1/4 mile from the Reed barn.  It's a good spot.  A tom turkey was blasting off in the shelter woods below, a snipe rose and fell twittering by the cattail pond, bluebirds sang while deciding which nesting box to set up in.  I sat for a bit, but a cold north wind came up and I wasn't dressed for it. Keep moving, find another chair.  

Mara and I did-she busy rolling in dirt and flattened reed canary grass, I feeling the warmth of the coffee sipped deliberately in a slow way.  There is no rush in this solitude.