Life is Green
Connection to nature is an important aspect of how I choose to spend time. I begin the day with a morning walk. Though I live near downtown Houston, my neighborhood is green and leafy with some exceptions and it’s a gentle way to remind me of my spiritual self.
I like to garden because of the connection to the earth and the creativity involved, and the impact of the labor. When I walk out the front door, almost every day of the year, I see butterflies and bees flitting about, often multiple species, and I feel a contented joy; the backyard is the same. The walks and the gardening are good, but it’s not enough as I’m not immersed in nature. Houston is a vast city sprawling into a metroplex over many counties that would probably take a day if you drove around the outer perimeter where true farming country and nature begins. Most nights there are few stars from the prolific light pollution, and even on the best of nights no more than a fraction of the starry heavens breaks through. It is a highly urbanized environment.
But I also happen to live near Memorial Park, a big 1500-acre green space in the heart of Houston. I’ve had an intention for a while to go visit and explore, and to do so on a regular basis. Last week, I followed through on that, taking a walk on one of the foot paths. I wasn’t sure where to go, but my subconscious impulses took me to the deepest part of a huge picnic area where I could access unofficial trails. I didn’t realize they were not “official” until after and it’s fitting that’s where I ended up. The footpaths were just wide enough to walk, and in places I brushed up against the foliage while hoping I didn’t make any contact with poison ivy. Flying critters of many sorts took to the air as I passed as even my gentle disturbance was noticed on a sleepy weekday where I was the only one on the path. Summers are hot, and the heat can be punishing and life-sucking but it had rained that morning and the woods felt relaxed and at peace. I had no idea where the path would lead or if it would become impassable at some point. I ended up taking a fork which led me back to the picnic area and so I think I’ll try the same path again and see where the other direction takes me.
There is something profound about being in a forest, about being immersed in nature’s green. Writing is an important part of how I exist, but to write properly, the many parts of who I am need to be fed. Being in the wild part of the park was like being surrounded by life, and it was a hopeful experience that somehow human beings would recalibrate and recognize that we cannot ultimately exist apart from nature. To the extent that I (or anyone) exist outside of nature for too much of my life, there is a way in which I am diminished; but I don’t feel or understand that until I’m in the forest.
My intention is to visit the park and the adjacent Arboretum on a regular basis. The green of life is a song for my spirit, and one way or another that song will find its way into the writing.
