where the wild things are
sometimes i think i am a totally wrong person to tell you about life near the wild, because i am not at home in the wild.
i like my creature comforts and have gone on exactly one backpacking trip. i once spent an interminably long night in a tent absolutely convinced that a raccoon was outside, about to claw its way into the tent and kill atlas, only to discover in the morning that it was a bird. i have no sense of direction; i can be trusted to go exactly the wrong way when following a map; and compasses confuse me. my dad has a degree in forestry and i have a phenomenal memory and yet i can never remember any of his wisdom about plants + trees. i know very little about animals. i am not quiet on my feet in the woods; i can probably be heard for miles. i tried my hand at wildcrafting last fall, gathering clover to make a steeped tea, only to discover that if i had made + drunk it, i probably would have gotten sick because apparently you can’t use wet clover. i do not like to pee in the woods. i have no interest in hunting. i caught one tiny fish in my life and it wriggled so much that it freaked me out and i had to run upstream, dipping the fish in the water every few steps, to find my brother so he could take the poor fish off the hook for me.
and yet, here i am, where the wild things are.
i love it here. i always have.
last week, i watched fox cubs pounce on one another like puppies.
the week before, i heard wolves howling in the early evening.
today, i watched the white tail of a deer as it bounded away from us.
i want to tell you about the wild because it is full of wisdom and full of wonder. when you’re surrounded by traffic & buildings & busyness & noise, sometimes it’s easy to forget this.
but the wild is our ancestral home, and we all have a wildness within us.
It sounds like to me that you are at home in the wild. It is the not-at-home in the wild that you are uncomfortable with.
So wise. I always did wish I was more outdoorsy than I actually am. Though I think I am finally at an age where I can appreciate myself for who I am.
having such appreciation, respect and gratitude for the wild makes you so much more “at home in the wild” than most people I know….
It is true that I often find myself with my hand on my heart, full of appreciation + wonder.
the marine… my brother… could literally live in the wild. he is happiest there.
i am more spider phobic than afraid of the things that could really hurt me.
but to be able to watch little fox cubs grow up… oh. what joys.
and yes. there is a wildness in us if we listen.
a lovely post. and picture.
they’re watching you!
I hope he has pieces of it near him!
Also: Me too. Except I am not afraid of spiders; I love them.
Wow… Where did you see the cute fox pups? I’ve seen a couple of foxes playing on the Cape near the canal… One was trotting along the canal path… But never any such cute pups!
Right here! Do you remember the water pipe in the swamp? The grassy part on either side? Their den was on near side of it. Though I think they’ve moved now; I haven’t seen them since we got back from MN. Atlas was so curious about them. One day, he wandered into the snowy swamp following the smell – this was before we saw them – and I thought he’d fall through and I’d have to go in and save him.
I love to see foxes. Wish I could find some cubs!
Oh, how I love this post and I have to ditto what Tracy Hanson said in her comment.
Yes, we are all wild – we are all part of nature not apart from it. Though we have built a world that is at odds with our very nature.
Thank you for this beautiful post.
Ann: I hope you do!
Kimberley: “a part of nature not apart from it”. Yes, yes, yes. Love this.