Feral

As I pulled out of the grocery store parking lot and onto the highway, I noticed a dozen or more crows passing by overhead and I watch as they all head off to the West, toward the mountains….My heart longs to join them in their carefree and playful flight as they dip, dive, and roll along across the sky.

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Sometimes I wonder if I am feral. OK, so I am pretty certain that I am, but I wonder if anyone else notices. Can they tell how much I struggle?  I miss nature, I miss the rhythm of the seasons, I miss the guidance of the moon and sometimes, I even miss the wind.  Not the mean, bone chilling cold that sneaks in and bites at you as you rush from car to building. But the cool, cleansing winds that play through the tree tops and draws pictures in the snow drifts. The gentle soothing winds as it shimmy and sways with the high mountain grasses .

I am grateful for my job.  But in this high heeled world, most of the time, I feel so out of place.  I like to stay busy. The distractions or my daily responsibilities helps to keep my mind and spirit from pacing back and forth, back and forth, watching and longing. Longing for a kiss of sunshine, a whiff of fresh air, the feel of dirt beneath my feet…

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Down the road ahead of me, above the passing traffic, over the roof tops and wires, I catch a glimpse of a hawk soaring by on the wind.  I see that the clouds are beginning to lift over Heart Mountain and I notice a sliver of blue bird blue sky…

As the day lingers on, I find myself looking out the window at the mountains and day dreaming, remembering, and longing to feel the comfort of the mountains around me.  I miss nature and the feeling of freedom that comes when connected to the natural world…  Soon…

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Soon… the weekend is almost here. And I know that Spring  is on it’s way…

 

 

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