take it easy

It's hot. Impossibly hot. And today has been a long day. By the end of it, my mind was full of useless knowledge from a day's worth of work, and a residue of stress would not seem to relent.

So, in spite of the stifling Greenhouse Effect currently underway outside, Ben and I decided it was time to get out. We coaxed Daisy into the car and fled for a hike in the forest before supper. When we pulled up to the entrance, not a car was in sight. And as we made our way into the woods, towing our curious Daisy along, we soon found that we had the forest to ourselves. How unexpected. We walked away from the day and into the forest.

I like to think of it as Ben's Forest. When he first moved to Chapel Hill, his first reassurance that he had made a good decision - was his discovery of the forest. Acres and acres of pine woods and walking trails and a stream for catching small silvery fish. Here he makes sculptures in forgotten corners of the woods and takes long walks and mulls over thoughts and ideas and - from time to time, catches fish on his new fishing rod before throwing them back into the stream where they belong.

So, we walked along quietly, enjoying the rare chance to have the forest all to ourselves. The trees were full and leafy and bright green, as they always are in July. Flourescent moss gleamed along the trail, content in the humidity. And the only sound was our feet tromping along. In spite of every rule and warning, we let Daisy off her leash and let her roam around. She explored to her heart's content - occassionally looking back to make sure we were tagging along. She terrorized toads, hunting them with true precision, and she tried to make a shiny black beetle her afternoon snack. But the beetle thought not.

Ben paused at his favorite part of the trail, where reeds grow straight out of the stream, and Daisy surprised everyone with an unadulterated romp in the water. All in all, it was a lovely walk, and the forest was ours alone. And when it was done, we headed home for a shower and supper and a glass of wine.

On the ride home, we had the windows open to let in a rush of summer evening, and we both had that good unwound feeling of having walked hard and purposely. Daisy was sitting, damp and sleepy, at my feet. And that's when Ben said "We need to rest more."

I know what he means. He means that we are more likely to be in a frenzy than at ease. And rarely, do we sit still and and quiet and let our minds untangle. But how much happier and kinder and lighter we would be if Rest topped the To-Do List.