The Wind Blew Me Here
I think that I cannot preserve my health and spirits, unless I spend four hours a day at least – and it is commonly more than that – sauntering through the woods and over the hills and fields, absolutely free from all worldly engagements. – Henry David Thoreau, Walking A storm is coming What wind brought me here I know not. Was it the scent that it carried, the call of the wild; that indescribable – insatiable – scent of nature, that bellowing – singing – of her children. I ask myself this. And I come to agree that it is this and more. However it was wrought not in my mind although I cherished learning it. It was born in my heart (and it is funny I say this because I’m fully aware my heart is just a muscle, and it is from my brain that these words flow). I haven’t found the answer yet, but I seek it. I am however no seeker of treasure nor tiger. Do I seek solace then, companionship, solitude, a mere fantasy? Do I seek to escape from the iron cold fists of the city? Do I...