This Summer Day

We interrupt today's news to offer you a moment in nature.

That's what I said - nature. Sunshine. Green grass. Trees. Wind. Birds.

You know, even as I write this I'm thinking of all of the folks for whom nature is a luxury. Many people don't have trees to shade their streets, or a park near their homes where they can walk in safety. Too many people live where the air is thick with smog, and the sound of birdsong is drowned out by honking horns and city noise. I ache for them. We all, every one of us, need green places to nourish our souls.

With that in mind, wherever you are right now, I offer you a windy summer day in June.

This morning I sat for hours working at the kitchen table. Ever since I got up my laptop had been churning out an unending cycle of bad news and worry. Finally our dog sighed, lumbered to her feet and nudged me to take her outside. Enough, she said.

As I opened the door, suddenly I was struck with the aliveness of that warm day. Inside, it had felt heavy and silent and full of too many worries, but here, outside, the world was awake and busy and full of life.

The grass under my bare toes tickled as I walked. It was warm and breezy, and the wind tousled my hair as I squinted in the bright sunlight.

I stood and looked up, stretching my aching back, and watched the wind in the trees tossing the branches and riffling the leaves. The light slanted through, falling in flickers on my arms. Somewhere, I could hear a lawnmower, and the air was filled with the smell of fresh grass.

I listened to the birds calling to each other, flitting from tree to tree. An oriole dipped its head into the feeder, took a seed and flew off. A tall dandelion on the edge of the garden nodded in the breeze. A squirrel hopped to and fro, twitching its tail, while another chattered and leapt from branch to branch above.

Our old dog wandered here and there, snuffling, and then tumbled over to lay on her back, squirming in the joy of warm grass and sunlight.

Suddenly I caught sight of a nest in the fork of a branch above me, with a robin's head just visible above the mass of twigs. The male with a worm in its mouth landed and fed it to her, and then flew away with a rustle of wings.

Just then, as I stood gazing out on it all, I heard a chorus of calls, and a flock of young geese flew high overhead in a neat V, practicing for fall migration, proclaiming their independence for the world to hear.

It wasn't all that special, exactly, now that I think about it. It wasn't a landscape with mountains or dramatic clouds or soaring eagles. It was just a few humble trees and some grass on a windy day. Just the world, the one outside my door, going about its business; finding food, raising its young, living and growing and calling to each other in the sunshine.

These days, it seems that every day is another headline, another tidal wave of news and uncertainty and change. In times like these, we need, badly, to take a little time to set down that heavy load, step away from all the noise, and go spend a little time outside.

I hope you have a little bit of nature somewhere near you, where you can go to ease your troubles from time to time. Maybe there's a park nearby, or perhaps you can steal a few moments at sunset to go outside. Maybe you can step out on your balcony and look up at the clouds for a bit. We all need it, especially these days.

Well. After a while, the dog ambled over to nudge me again. Time to go in, time for a snack, she said, and then, maybe, a nap. I laughed and bent down to rub her old, shaggy head. Time to get back to work. But I did feel better.

And I hope you do, too.