“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 I am free.”
Wendell Berry

It’s a lovely cloudy day on the farm as I sit at my desk and watch the goats and sheep grazing and napping under the trees. Bear and our friend Brendan are in the shed making medieval armour and I’m sitting here quietly, sipping from a cheery Christmas mug full of chokeberry black currant tea and watching the gum trees sway in the wind.

I love home. It is a place of refuge and creativity, an oasis where we can rest our weary selves and delight in our animals, gardens, fields, and the woods. I’m especially grateful for our farm in the crazy times we’re living in. The news provides a steady stream of reasons to be in a constant state of fear and panic, but home reminds me that the world is far bigger than the news, and chockablock full of wonders and kind people and natural beauty and creative endeavours and delicious food and great books and amazing art and wondrous music and gorgeous animals and incredible plants and glorious sunsets. I am learning anew that it is possible to care deeply about issues yet not live in fear. The wild things take me back to that grounded place of peace from which I can do the most good for myself and others.

My French friend Martine loves the wild places too, and last week we packed a lunch and headed to the mountains for a day of adventures. Cedar Creek Falls is one of our favourite spots, especially on weekday mornings when there’s hardly another soul around. We amble along slowly, stopping often to sigh happily at views of waterfalls and towering cliffs and hidden caves.

The wind in our hair and sun on our faces and the sound of water tumbling over rocks all combined to wash away any vestiges of stress and anxiety, and grounded us in a present that was so beautiful you could feel it in your soul.

I love the pools of water, so clear you can see to the bottom, layered in colours of turquoise and rust.

We took turns going on solitary explorations while the other guarded the food. I loved scrambling over the rocks, sliding down to sit by the water, discovering wildflowers and even a tomato growing in tiny crevasses.

So many things were blooming, bright yellow wattle, tangled vines covered with bright orange blooms, and bushes festooned with tiny purple flowers that looked like orchids.

We sat here for a long time, legs dangling over the cliff, sipping cucumber water and eating slices of fresh berry tart with maple cream. We mostly sat in silence, sharing awed grins now and then as we soaked up the roar of the waterfalls, the cool breezes whistling down the canyon, and the sounds of whipbirds and  kookaburras.

We returned home to dinner by the fire, our hearts full, our bodies strengthened, and our minds at peace, ready to face the world again. xo