I had a lot of responsibilities as a child. One of them was to walk the dog. When I was six years old, this simply meant to walk the dog around the yard a few times each day. I look back, and maybe this was not wise as the dog was about 80lbs and I was not. However, it remained my job. I never looked at it as a burden and I don't remember complaining about it.
When we moved to England and got a new dog, this job grew. It seems so strange to me today as I keep my children in sight at all times. I walked my dog around the entire base. It was another way to meet people and make new friends. My dog was not just a dog, he was a solid black Chow. People all over the base nicknamed him "Bear" and everywhere we went, people wanted to pet him and say hello.
It wasn't long before we started walking off base. This was not a problem as I had an ID to get back on base. We just had to judge the traffic carefully as many cars were travelling over 60 MPH on the road we needed to cross once we left the gate.
That crossing was worth it. Just outside of the main gate was a very large forest. It was mostly Pines and Oaks and Ferns, but there were occasionally Fairy Tale style toadstools or mushrooms also. (I still find it impossible not to smile when looking at a red mushroom with white spots.)
We walked for miles each day and each time, we would stop at a clearing in what seemed to be the center of this forest. A large Oak had fallen and there were old scortch marks from what was probably lightning. This Oak was so large, that laying on its side, it was still taller than my hip. I would lean against it, rest and let my dog off of his leash. As I write this, I close my eyes and I can smell the damp pine needles underfoot and the moss on the trees. I can almost see each of the leaves of ivy and feel the large ferns brushing against my leg.
This forest was more magical than all of the stories I had read because each time I went, it seemed to be completely mine. It was silent and peaceful. Beatiful and serene. We walked miles in this forest without a care or a fear of who might be lurking, or what danger might await. About two miles from that clearing in one direction was the burial site of a Viking ship with mumified human remains for historical hikers. That's where I learned just how short people were hundreds of years ago.
Two miles in another direction was the site of very famous "crop circles" that suddenly appeared years after the infamous letter to the Pentagon from our Base Commander about UFO's. Then there was the main gate of a RAF Base, but at that clearing, there seemed to be no past, no future, no present danger. Looking up, I could see only the flecks of daylight. It was dim and peaceful as if the entire world had just been given a lovely filter. Not too bright, not too dark, not too loud. Just soft rustling as I walked. Occasionally a bird or squirrel.
I first walked into that forest 26 years ago, and I still have never found anything to compare. I find tiny snippets of these feelings in other things and I marvel at them. I am a rushed person. I am a busy person. I love my life and am grateful for the snippets. I think everyone has such a moment or place of sheer perfection in them. I think we hold those places in our hearts to remind us of the grace and wonder of this life. I am in Oklahoma now and must close my eyes in the quiet to imagine a clearing in a forest far away. Someone else may right now be closing their eyes to envision some field here. We all have our own views of perfection and bliss. One day, I will see, touch and smell my forest again. If I keep my eyes closed long enough, I also remember that in that clearing, I was closing my eyes and getting ideas for my next homework assignment, or trying to answer the unanswerable questions of life. Perhaps things have not changed so much in 26 years...
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