We play. Doh!

yellowflower beeonplant goldenwhippet

Sometimes, we lose our childish ways.
Sometimes, this is a good thing.  And.
Sometimes, this is a bad thing.

Children. Kids. Babies. Rugrats.  You name it.  That was us, once.  Our humble beginnings.

We started out as little clay balls.  Really.  If we were lucky, we all had two eyes, a nose, and 20 digits.  The rest was  just waiting to be molded.

So there we are.  Play-Doh in the waiting.   And, pretty much…. ready for any little thing.   So we would cry when it hurt.  Whatever “it” was.  Hungry, lonely, sleepy, too wet, too dry…. we cried.  We even screamed.  And when we were happy, we would smile and laugh. Or scream again, in another way.

As the age came on, we found things.  Like… crayons, and toys,  imaginary friends, and a sense of wonder.  We rolled in the dirt.  At will.  Some of us more than others.  We would throw our backs down in the grass, and watch the clouds…. as Dumbo and ice cream cones would float on by.  We didn’t wear watches. Or carry phones.

We learned.  We lived.  We tasted, and smelled, and made mental notes.  Notes which sang songs in our heads.  Then we would sing them…. randomly… out loud.

“The turtle is green.  Peas are green.  Green peas. I like. Green turtles. I like.”   And we would sing it again… over, and over, and over.

That was us.

I am often reminded of all of this,  whenever I brush with nature.   I love nature.  I love to be in it.

Oh.  But. There is a huge asterisks. at the end of that sentence.  I love nature in doses.  Just so long as I can be in the comfort zone….  when the sun goes down.  Yep.  I love to hike it, breath it, see it, and play in it.  But at the end of the day, I love a hot shower, a pair of clean jammy pants, a warm bed, and hefty Wi-Fi.

You see, my Play-Doh was rolling in the dirt one day… when the OCD crept up from behind… and started pressing.  It left a big, deep, mark in my Play-Doh.  So now, I am what I am.

But nature is truly golden.  If you sit quietly in the perfection of nature, you can hear the ancient wisdom in the bark of the trees,  in the green of the grass, and in the waves on the lake.

The wonder in nature.   It gives your mind, and your heart, a chance to rest.  In the good and quiet calm. The child in us, deep within us, sees it so.

And that is one time in life, when we should never lose our childish, wonderful ways.


We do not see nature with our eyes, but with our understandings and our hearts. — William Hazlitt


Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair. — Khalil Gibran


The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness. — John Muir