Wednesday, November 16, 2016

SANCTUARY


early 1980s

    The expanse of forested land leading out to the parkland stretches before me. It is beautiful but I am not enjoying it. I have driven north of the city to this hill with a heavy, depressed mood upon me. Even the rich green textures and natural setting of a forest do not seem able to lift my spirits as they had always done in my youth. I see, but do not feel, nature around me.

    A breeze begins to blow and turns to a light wind. I close my eyes and feel my hair blown across the skin of my forehead and some strands blowing upward above my head. Slowly, as the wind continues and I am aware of the warmth of the sun, I begin to imagine God standing beside me mussing my hair with his fingertips as a man might do playfully to a boy. The mental image captivates me and I am lost in my fantasy as the wind dies a little and becomes a gentle caress over my skin. I feel my hair settling in disarray. The silky smooth breeze is soothing and at the same time energizing.

    An instinctive smile is on my lips even before I open my eyes. The lush greens of the trees stretch before me and I see the details of moving leaves and tree branches. Farther away I see the edge of the parkland and it all seems alive and breathing with a life of its own. Above the emerald landscape is a rich, blue, cloudless sky. The air smells fresh and clean. I have forgotten what terrible thing had weighed me down and led me to this spot. I linger awhile in the moment.

    It is time to return to the city and I reluctantly turn and walk toward my car. It is time to leave but I carry a peacefulness inside me that had been sorely absent when I arrived. I get into the car and start the engine. For a few moments I ease myself back against the seat and relax. Flashing a brief, quick smile I put my foot on the brake and shift into reverse. As it was in my youth, so it still is, the forest is my sanctuary.