Birds deep in their song, hidden in the fur of branches in Pawtuckaway park are a gift after months of snow and ice.
Nature runs in our blood like whiskey in a drunk. We’re bred to explore, to feel the wind in our faces and to sweat under a glaring sun.
We are as wild at heart as the buffalo and the bear.
Never mind the water snakes.
No matter how far you travel from where you were born you are never truly lost if you open your heart to the wild. For there is wild in every corner of the earth. Whether it is splashing in a cold lake on a hot day, pulling yourself up a mountain or hanging on for dear life on the back of a horse.
You can find home in a million places but you have to find you first.
Everything falls into place after that.
The first day of the season.
Geese were paddling gaily in the open stretches of lake streams. The wind was playing in the eaves as a scandic child would in snow. Only hazes of clouds that could have been, floated in the clear blue. There was nothing missing here. It was everything and nothing.
Nothing we needed. Nothing we couldn’t over come.
Everything was just the two us walking through a wood.
Chipmunks spitting out nut shells, baby squirrels leaping from bed to branch and the water snakes slithering in the under growth, this is living.
So many have been denied the art of living.
Everyday the same.
It doesn’t have to be us.
And it doesn’t have to be you.
Paint like you did when you were four with your fingers all in that mess.
Run like you were running the olympics. Run to all those dreams your adult self decided weren’t meant to be.
Yes, you have to work to live, but you must always remember that you live for you.
The wild will always be calling you — open the damn window and listen.
Like my ancestors before me, i travelled so many miles from my little home in Denmark all those years ago; to wake up every morning under a new sun and see what the world had to offer me.
Walking the path of a wanderer in the free of it.
That meant putting certain things on hold and risking everything to find something bigger or better.
My love of the stage, comedy, sailing which was like breathing to me and the old captain who lives on without me.
Its all worlds away now.
And whilst my family and my shipmate, live all those thousands of miles from me — i know that i carry them with me on my shoulders everyday.
The hardships, the laughter and the memories.
The days we sailed through life without a care for anything.
With every post card, every photo in an envelope — they can live as i do.
In the mountains.
On the Texas plains.
By the sea.
I’d be lying if i said it wasn’t terribly hard to be gone, but you have to walk the way your heart goes.
Mine raced far ahead of me with the wind.
Who am i to deny it?
As long as the wind blows i’ll never catch it.
The wind will never stop blowing, and i shall always trail my heart to wherever it is supposed to go.
I don’t where i’ll end up but i’m lucky to have someone to go with me.
This weekend we lost ourselves in these woods.
We laughed like idiots, i got my feet wet and Jack turned into Gandalf the blue-eyed.
And as i mentioned on facebook,
no one got eaten by a bear.
“Remember the quiet wonders. The world has more need of them than it has for warriors.”