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the peace of wild things

2013 July 8
by Rachel Turiel

wildthings

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair grows in me and I wake in the middle of the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be, I go and lie down where the wood drakes rests in his beauty in the water, and the great heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with fore thought of grief. I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting for their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

— Wendell Berry

 

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