I’ve mentioned this before, but when I lived in Sacramento, even though the city was literally surrounded and divided by nature, I saw very little green unless I went to find it. My neighborhood, one of the only places I could actually afford to live, was a maze of stoplights and stripmalls. On the weekends, I would take my dog on long walks on the American River Parkway. The main trail was paved and full of hardcore bicyclists and runners, but just a few steps away one could find winding dirt trails through the trees, up and down the small hills and valleys, and closer to the river. Doozer and I always looked for those trails. I treasured quiet moments among the lush green vegetation, with only the sound of our footsteps, and if we were lucky, the rushing of the river in the distance.
Having lived in the Midwest most my adult life, nature is vital to my existence. I often say I’m solar-powered, but it may be more accurate to say I’m powered by time spent outdoors. Looking around in the spring, for example, Midwestern states are stunning. There are more shades of green than one ever thought possible in nature, wildflowers of every color palette and shape, and rolling hills that give way to rivers and lakes and stark black dirt, rich with the nutrients to sustain plant life of all kinds. And there’s a peace and quiet here that soothes my soul even on its stormiest of days.
I talk a lot about how living in the rural Midwest is like turning down the volume and tempo of life’s problems. Around here, we still have the same struggles, stresses, and sadness, but because life, even the over-scheduled life so prevalent these days, moves slower here, it’s as though we have more bandwidth available to switch mental and emotional tabs in the computers of our brains–if we choose to do so. If we take just a brief moment, we are able to hear the birds singing, the water rushing, the leaves of tall trees swaying in the breeze, and the twigs snapping under our feet, even amongst our daily routines. There’s calm in those small sounds. Some of us choose not to hear them, and would rather focus on the cacophonous din of the trials that come for us all. But, those of us who’ve lived in places where even a good day is more difficult, and where making ends meet is a constant tug on an unstretchable rope, we know what a privilege it is to have the option to hit the slow motion button and take in the beauty instead.
So, the next time you’re reeling in the pressure of a tough day at work, or school, or whatever daily thing you do that can get to you, go sit under a tree or by a river or drive a gravel road. Breathe in nature and let your eyes absorb the myriad shades of green. And if all you hear is the snap of twigs or the babbling of a stream, you, my friend, are one of the lucky ones.
Sara Middleton is a correspondent and columnist for Mid-America Publishing and resident artist/owner of Studio Sol Gallery & Creative Space in Eagle Grove, Iowa. Email her at sara.studiosol@gmail.com or find her at http://studiosolllc.com.
