I took a walk outside of a homestead farm this morning, just at daybreak. The farm is between the territory of two wolf packs, so I was warned to be on guard. As I walked, I felt my own fragility. I looked for rocks with which to defend myself or scare a wolf away, should it come to that. To be fair, I was never in any real danger - wolves don't normally encroach on human settlements unless they are desperate - but as a city gal, it had me considering my own survival more than I normally do!
It made me feel as though the whole biophilia concept is a luxury for those who are safely disconnected from nature and her wildness. But after a day of workshops, talking, and deeply listening and planning, it felt good to have such clarity of thought and purpose. I was on guard, but I felt alive and alert in ways I don’t normally. And it felt amazing to be alone and quiet after a day of constant human communication.
Singularity of purpose, solitude, and quiet are rarities in my life, and I treasure the moments when they come, despite the undercurrent of fear. It was life, it was wildness, and it was gorgeous.