Thursday, November 6

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

— Wendell Berry


  1. Beautiful photo, and thanks for reminding me of this wonderful poem.

  2. I know the poem and the photo don't really match, but I really wanted to share them both.

  3. They're both beautiful, Heidi. The photo is breathtaking!