The town where I live used to be a nice place. Distanced from the city, it was nestled snugly in a little niche, half way between rural and municipal living. Then some faceless bureaucrat decided to build a train link to the city, and suddenly, our quiet little town was a fashionable place to live. Apartments shot up on every available patch of land, concrete weeds reaching for the sky, while the narrow roads creaked and groaned under the weight of ever more cars and trucks. It is no longer a nice place…with one exception.
Take a walk along the busy central thoroughfare, duck through a small copse, and you find yourself in a rural idyll. A beautiful lake, encompassed by trees, and completely silent, save for the sound of birds and wildlife. Here, Mother Earth can breathe again; her unspoiled beauty radiating pure brilliance, to melt away the cares and troubles of our modern world.
Oscar Wilde once wrote that, “Nothing can cure the soul but the senses…” Tomorrow, Mother’s day, perhaps I shall visit this rural idyll to pay homage to Mother Earth, to fill my senses with her beauty and to cure my soul.