Our world lost an amazing woman last week, Mary Oliver. She had such a wonderful way with words, not overdone, not too little, just right (kinda like Goldilocks). She spent decades out in nature just observing and being part of the amazing world around us. Many people never stop to appreciate the small things, but she saw them all and wrote about them. I like hiking alone, AND with friends. It’s a balance of both for me. But when I’m feeling introspective, I swear she wrote this poem just for me 🙂 Thank you Mary Oliver for sharing your gift.
How I go to the woods
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, Swan: Poems and Prose Poems
