A Retreat for the Mind

Amidst chaos and other things, sometimes my mind drifts away as a way to cope.

There is a memory of an imagined time and place in my mind, one that has been with me for many years. I may have formed it while reading something, but nonetheless it has become a source of peace and beauty inside, when it is conjured from the recesses of my mind.

It is 70-80 years ago, on a country farm, in late summer. There’s something bittersweet about late summer, a last call for a glass of ice lemonade, the ritualistic sounds of the cicada, reminding me of the same summer song heard yearly.
A gentle breeze, a settling sun, a pink sky, the heat of August is over – beset by the crispness of the looming autumn to come. A last time to explore, to camp, to walk through a shallow creek barefoot maybe. There’s a large Oak Tree outside the backdoors white painted, wood porch – which faces the setting sun. A swing dangles gently in the breeze. A lush lawn of green grass ends just over a slight roll of a hill the home rests on. That is the beginning of an endless field, a field without fences. The calmness, the serenity, the memories of the summer as well as the prior summer are summoned.

A time without commercializations, a time without TV’s or a myriad of fads, a time with no care, a time of inner peace, a time to be lazy and notably, a time of reflection.

"There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight,
To me did seem
Apparelled in celestial light,
The glory and the freshness of a dream. "
-Walt Whitman

Maybe that imagined place can be yours now as well, a place to ponder and to enjoy within your imagination, to visit when times are harsh and unforgiving. I hope I packaged this gift nicely for you to take to heart, to understand, to help heal, to fight.

Yee, I too have such place, a park, a tree, a certain tine, and the vibrant bussing of flies, with their spectral colored wings stopping time, immemorial and beyond every conceivable place or time.