The Wild Marsh Winds
Dear friend,
The winds blow across the wild marsh so that the muddy, broad-leaved tufts of grass bow northwest, as do the trees. The hawthorns and the fruit bushes bend like human figures, worn by time.
It’s important to come out into some kind of natural setting as frequently as you can.
Even if it’s just to walk on the grass in the park.
There’s harmony in nature. To be part of it doesn’t take much effort. It’s a case of being ourselves.
Creatures, with complex inner lives.
With needs and desires we don’t always understand.
Or of which we might not even be aware.
A din that is never enough din to drown out what is natural in us.
The pull of beauty and the touch of wildness, drawing us deeper into the life of our mother.
The planet.
One time, I had one of those dreams.
The type you don’t forget.
All of the roads in London had been replaced by waterways. There were boats you jumped on and off to travel to your destination.
There were so many trees, the city was more like an urban forest, and dolphins were spotted in the London docks.
The future of our cities will be green.
And there is a future.
Where the wind is blowing.
And we gather in the wild places.
To know ourselves.
Ever more deeply.
Till tomorrow,
Love,
Mikey