Come to think of it, when I was a child I spent much of my time close to the ground or in the trees. Alone. The draw for me in my neighborhood was an expanse of land referred to as Shaw's Hill. At the edge was a big estate lined with a thick stand of lilacs that created a natural boundary between the two properties; one manicured and the other wild, overgrown fields and hills leading to the creek and forest. I spent days on the wild side attempting to fly kites, picking wild berries or sliding down the hill on waxed cardboard or toboggans. Summer days my mother would send me out to pick huckleberries or wild strawberries. Once my cup was filled, I would lie on my back and watch the cloud formation; lost in the promise that the clouds would move and change. Other times I would just walk randomly through the field and when it felt right, lie on my back. With time I would shift to my side and open my eyes to ants and other creatures as I peered through the tall grass.
The sandy beaches near my home provided another place to connect. Here the weight of my body was supported by the tiny grains. Comfort was gained from the soft breeze and constant shift of the sea. I was always at peace near the sea with sand between my toes. It seems that when I was young, instinctually knew what I needed; drifting off to Shaw's Hill or the beach when I needed quiet renewal.
Now, I walk through fields and into the woods and crouch low under the tree branches. Here I find a soft bed of pine needles and I rest looking up into the blackness of bare branches that nearly obstruct the sky. I share this space with deer and other creatures. I am surrounded by sea here on this beloved island and I seek refuge taking long walks as the sea collides with the land or is calm and still. Clearly, I am drawn to the earth, the sea and the sky. Mother Earth provides.