the meadow calls

Last July, while driving through Western Canada through a particularly scenic part of Alberta’s “rolling hills”, I was taken by a sparkling pond and open meadow to the left side of the highway.  The car was parked and I explored.

I stepped off the concrete into a cushioned mat of green, with peeping flowers of various colours interspersed with the soft blades. Most of them were probably weeds, but they looked so pretty to me

I walked into the middle of the meadow, until I felt as though I was directly under the sun and lay on the ground – back to the earth, face to the sky-  Trees flanked the peaceful space and offered occasional whispers when brushed by the breeze. Birds chirped pleasantly

I suddenly felt as though I had been sucked from my life, and spat into someone else’s – someone happier. A life so beautiful and unsustainable that it hurt. Then I realized that this was my life,  just a neglected, atrophied part of it. it was my mind at ease and not another’s. Feeling held and connected in ones own company is a special experience.

Inflated, I basked in the possibility that I had been the only person in the history of the world to have occupied that six feet of untended space. It made the moment vital, and profound. Perhaps I had been the only invited — called to sit, and see, and feel, and live – my space.

This was my life.

© Anthony Gorman 2017





5 thoughts on “the meadow calls

  1. I did this once and ended up staying there for seven more years. It was as if the earth immediately grasp hold of my heart and wouldn’t let it go. This is a beautiful memory, and hopefully one you will never forget. 🙂


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