The Saunterer

I am a saunterer of the woods. I love that I have the freedom to roam wherever my feet decide to take me. If only temporary, my spirit is permitted to be independent and free from any responsibilities that beckons me when entrapped by the four walls in which I dwell. The sound of my own heart beating is unified with nature. The frogs are croaking for rain. Butterflies are dancing with tiger lilies. Bees are kissing the lips of honeysuckle blooms. I feel at this moment that our insignificant lives are interconnected, and there is some divine purpose for all that walks midst nature.  The nectar of life has filled the air, and we are only privy to nature’s fragrance.

It is this transitory time that man does not and cannot enslave me. In a nearby pasture field the horses roam wild, but they have already fallen victim to man. They too can roam for ephemeral periods until they are harnessed to a plow and yoked to their backs are the whips of man released.

I can experience the grace of God. The shadows of the morning are likened to a painted landscape drawn upon a canvas by the sun’s rays with clouds silhouetting upon the grassy knolls. I hear the trumpeter’s song as the V-formation of geese fly above me. They call out to each other, “I am here my brethren.” They are the wildness of nature, driven by the desire to cool off in a nearby pond and in search for their morning breakfast. All worthy things are wild and free. Man constantly strives to return to their primal nature. To hunt, to fish, and to camp amongst the uncivilized beasts that does not recognize our social etiquettes. Yes, I am the saunterer of the woods, and I am guilty of indulging in the primal instincts of untamed beasts.






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