I have lived in cities, I have lived in the desert. I have lived in a field, I have lived in suburbia. For a short while, I lived above a pizza restaurant. No matter where I live, I always seem to long for the woods.
Once, all alone in Ireland, I walked a woods that I’ll never forget. It was a planting of trees, up a steep climb, on the edge of a salt marsh. I climbed the hill, and stepped out of the sunshine and into a magical, soft shadowy place. Parallel rows of a thousand trees surrounded me. They were ancient spires, reaching up to heaven. The cushion of thick pine needles gave a spring to my step and hushed all sound.
I was alone… until the song of an unknown bird sparked the air, electrifying it with musical notes that were echoed far up into the branches. I only saw the shadows of their wings flitting and darting away. I watched the tide come in from the cliffside. It flooded the salt marsh with energy and life, but soon would leave again. And the marsh would sleep once more, at the edge of the wooded hill, yellow blossoms bobbing their heads in the grassy places.
This day, I am far from Ireland.
Snow blankets my present world in a quilt of peace, and I want to share that peace with you. If you had the chance today, I know you would leave the bustle and noise of the city and the desert, the field and even suburbia to share in this peace.
So, these photos are for you…Peace.