Feel The Connection?

I wonder if you sometimes feel that connection to nature too? It’s something that I often struggle to describe as I think some people just don’t get what I mean. Maybe it’s because they don’t have a connection to nature any longer. Maybe it’s just because they experience it so very differently.

When I’m out there, not matter if it’s in a small park in the middle of the city, that might not feel like much of nature to most, or on a beach or hike, everything kind of reaches me. I feel the sun on my skin and feel how it warms me up through and through. Or the drops of rain, how they touch my skin, the sound they make when they touch the ground. It’s the wind that plays with the hair or “touches” your skin.

It’s the wind that mostly gets to me. For those of you who have read my posts on a regular base it’s nothing new. When I’m out there in nature and the wind plays with my hair or just gently caresses my face, I feel it plays with me. I’m not sure if it was my Dad at one point who told me that the wind always tells a story or if I came up with it as a child. It just feels like it could have been one of my Dad’s beautiful stories about nature and the way he sees it. He was the one who taught me to feel it. To feel the warmth of the sun, the chill of the snow, the crisp of fresh air, the touch of the wind. He was the one who told me to smell the air, the different smells of the season, of dry soil, wet soil, cold or hot soil. He was the one who taught me how to connect.

I always believed that the wind can tell you a story about his travels around the globe. While up until recently I felt like it connected me with the world and with people who were far away, I now think the wind also carries a new special gift for me.

A hug from my Dad, who has passed away only recently.

Yesterday I struggled. I struggled with some emotions and I just had to leave the house and go to the beach. Walking along the beach, listening to the waves and feeling the soft wind on my skin made me calm down immediately. I felt like my Dad hugged me. I think I needed that hug. Not just because of the pressure I felt yesterday. I needed it because up until now I have not cried truly. Sometimes I’m not sure if it’s okay to not cry. Sometimes I almost feel guilty. I feel like I have to grief. With tears, with meltdowns. But I don’t. Funny enough I most of the time feel at peace and connected to him. Yesterday I cried. Sitting on a rock, listening to the waves, the sun warming me up and the wind gently caressing me.

And I knew that he is there. That he will always be there if he wants to. I know that he is speeding over the mountains, down a waterfall, every now and then making the strongest trees almost fall over. I know he plays with the snowflakes and the dust, the waves on the ocean. I know he is out there, wherever he wants to be, doing what he wants to do.

Being the wind that tells the story…