As I settle into the newness of 2024, as though walking on fresh sand, I reflect on how a four year old views the world.  When I told my four year old grandson we were walking toward a special bench, he saw a tree bent lengthwise like a log and ran to it.  Is this the bench?  Well, of course, it was.  It was a place to sit.

When we walked around our yard, most of it natural, he saw a stack of dead bamboo piled to decompose.  To him, it was a treasure trove.  We now had magic wands, staffs, swords, and walking sticks.  When we came upon some fallen branches, he saw antlers, so he and his grandpa made a headband of cardboard and attached the antlers with duct tape, and he was Bambi, the “adult” Bambi, not the baby one.

Today my brain froze as I dealt with computer issues, and I knew it was time to take the advice of Wendell Berry in his comforting and inspiring poem The Peace of Wild Things, and go to the water and birds.

“For a time

 I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.”