Ache for the Land

Having once put his hand into the ground
seeding there what he hopes will outlast him,
a man has made a marriage with his place,
and if he leaves it his flesh will ache to go back.
Wendell Berry

My cousins and I know what it is to ache for a place. Our fathers came from the Adirondacks, and though they may not have “put their hands into the ground” in the sense of farming, they certainly were tied to the land by hunting, fishing and love of place. Their livelihood was tied to its natural resources.

As solitary people they found solace in the quiet of the woods, though anyone who has been deep in the woods knows its quiet is not silence but an insulation from unnatural sound.

We ache to be there. If there was work to be had, we would be there. We return often and often together. Our earliest and fondest memories are of sharing family time there. We are tied to the community through experience and family stories. We spend time and energy to pass this treasure onto our children and grandchildren.

In today's urban, chaotic, move - move - move society do people still experience this attachment to place​? Perhaps. I have been chased twice now by city folk who, having moved to the country, have then worked hard to bring Manhatten along with them.

I ache to go back, break up the concrete, and put my hands into the soil.

Singing Rock

One of my first posts included this picture of a rock with water surging around it.
I was worrying about my position as the rock. Was I in the middle of chaos or was I the cause of the chaos? I recently came upon this quote ...... now I have more to think about.

"It may be that when we no longer know what to do, we have come to our real work
and when we no longer know which way to go, we have begun our real journey.
The mind that is not baffled is not employed. The impeded stream is the one that sings."

— Wendell Berry