Sanctuaries for the soul in Daydreaming on the Porch

I was telling some one the other day that it is Nature -- for example, the solitude and peace found among the paths and trails at the gardens and parks I frequent -- that most fully restores my sanity and equilibrium. These is nothing else that comes close. This is my meditation, my prayer. It's finding oneness with everything around me at the moment: gazing into the deep green woods; watching adult birds feed young ibis chicks in a swamp garden rookery; feeling a cool breeze on a warm day walking the outer trail at Magnolia Gardens near the Ashley River, marshes and wetlands. Seeing great blue herons and egrets soar into the sky. It's being able to quit the ceaseless drumbeat of society's demands and pressures. It's slowing down and gazing closely at an iris in full, glorious purple bloom. I'm out walking and observing, seeing and feeling LIFE, here and now. I merge with my surroundings. Often no one else is around. Me and Nature -- together. This is my existence and all that matters in those moments.

When I'm surrounded by huge live oaks and azaleas and clear blue skies above, I dwell completely for a short time in a world apart from my normal existence. To find these sanctuaries, I don't have to drive far off to the North Carolina mountains or Tennessee or Georgia, as much as I would love to so do. I can drive for 20 or 30 minutes and be there. Turn off the road, enter the tree-lined drive and instantly leave the speeding cars and trucks behind. Mericifully, quiet descends.

Yes, there are many beautiful places far away from here that I long to experience again, or for the first time, but those adventures of the soul must wait. Right now, here where I live, I have all the Nature sanctuaries I could want. I think this is one of the definitions of home: living in a place that has everything you need.