Opening reflections:

Nature…is the wheel that drives our world; those who ride it willingly might yet catch a glimpse of a dazzling, even a spiritual restfulness, while those who…insist that the world must be piloted by man for his own benefit will be gathering dust but no joy. [Mary Oliver]

But indeed, it is not so much for its beauty — that the forest makes a claim upon men’s hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of the air, that emanates from the old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit. [Robert Louis Stevenson]

Chosen and read by Amy W.

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The second opening reflection by RLS and Brookgreen’s old trees made me think of a Henry Wadsworth Longfellow poem I knew well as a young student. 

Excerpt from the Prelude to “Evangeline” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

“This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.

…

Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is patient,
Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman’s devotion,
List to the mournful tradition still sung by the pines of the forest;
List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy.”

Reflection by Sue J. 

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On my walk today I was called to slow down and do several standing meditations — one at the winter-brown marsh overlook along the Low Country Trail and one in a wooded area away from any path.  

Inner stillness breathes 

Peace nestles in amongst gray mist

Sadness settles down. 

New growth reaches tall 

Emerging from fertile trunk

Resilient life… joy. 

Majesty embrace

Upturned face baptized by mist

Sadness, resilience, hope. 

 

Soil unearthed in hand

Fills nostrils and memories

Past, present, forever. 

 

Photos and haikus by Nancy L.