Tranquility

     I’ve long claimed a preference for living life at a walker’s pace. I’ve certainly had the best of intentions as I’ve tried to do so. However, I suspect I’ve spent much of my life speed walking. 

     Somewhat sadly, my time outdoors has been no exception. It’s only been the last few years that I’ve realized how much I passed by, without noticing the beauty and serenity of what was around me. 

     Fortunately, life has a way of slowing us down to the proper pace, whether we let it or not. At present, I’m blessed with enough health to get outside and walk a lot. But I need to walk more slowly and carefully. I take breaks. I observe. I wonder. Then I move on. My shotgun is no longer my constant walking companion in the fall. Rather, my trekking cane, lightweight stool and binoculars accompany me most of the time. 

I don’t walk with an agenda and I spend no time thinking about what I’ve been missing all these years. Rather, I revel in what I’m seeing now. 

     Hunting used to be my way of focusing on God’s creation. And I still enjoy hunting. However, I’ve since discovered that my primary motive is less about achieving and more about observing. So hunting is something I do if it helps me experience the tranquility and wonder of what I’m seeing. If I find hunting is hindering my enjoyment, the gun stays behind. 

     I just spent three days “hunting” waterfowl in North Dakota. I watched the sun rise and set. I looked across the vastness of fields and potholes, as far as the eye can see. I felt the wind and the sun. I walked around a shelter belt, wondering what stories the trees could tell. I watched a few ducks and geese flying around. Not many, but a few. 

I didn’t shoot a single bird and I didn’t care.  I came home with a limit of tranquility. 

Copyright Daniel Blake, October 2, 2023