The Rachel Carson Trail
By Kathleen Comber
You enter the woods
And you feel crowded
By the trees and sounds
By your thoughts and plans
And the decisions you have to make.
You walk quickly through the trail,
Like you walk quickly on the sidewalk.
It takes time for you to remember
That it’s not pavement beneath your feet
But dirt and leaves and pine needles and rainwater.
It takes time for you to realize
That there’s no rush,
There’s no end you have to reach.
Your only responsibility is to this moment.
Your only responsibility is
To hear the birds
To feel the rain
To smell the salty air
To see the palette of colors
To breathe.
And even though the sun is behind the clouds,
The sunlight is still there
And it makes this corner of the world glow
With a thousand shades of green,
Glow like the moon at night.
When you notice this
Your feet begin to slow
Along with your thoughts.
Then the path curves
and the landscape opens before you:
To the marsh, a green carpet soft and alive,
To the distant sea beyond that
To the wide infinite sky,
Framed on either side by forest,
Trees like gate posts,
So you think you are looking at the entrance of something,
The gateway to some other way of living and seeing.
You feel your chest open to this landscape.
You remember
How big the world is
The world that you belong to
And the shock of the wide open space
Makes you stop a moment
Makes you wonder
Makes you breath deep
Like you’ve been holding your breath.
So for this moment
You let this place embrace you
Your mind quiets
And you are still.
