It is easy for the senses to become atrophied in a world of overstimulation and one in which nature is perceived as a place to visit rather than as a daily participative reality.
From above in the vines there is a tiny movement, a shadow shifts against the wind and not with it.
Something falls to the floor and on the edge of hearing a noise that is not plant is perceived.
These minute cues are the alphabet of the wild, the geometry of Gaia.
Our ancestors would have studied these keenly. Not only to mitigate for survival but to become ever deeper enmeshed within the web of life.
It was an enrichment and an ennoblement and to learn them was a rite of passage into the utterly sensual world of the wild.
Once entered, this world reveals not otherworldly supernatural forms but rather the joyful palimpsest of an everyday reality that weaves us into the greatest of all tales.
How easy then to have missed the presence of this tiny mouse as it fed upon the wild grapes. What experiential moments may have been passed over and the joy of sitting in mutual trust sharing this moment of close connection forsaken.
All around the earth whispers and beckons us to join in this Bacchanalian feast.
The role of men is changing in the 21st century. Want to keep up? Get the best stories from The Good Men Project delivered straight to your inbox, here.
Photo: Wood mouse at Saladaviciosa. Courtesy of the author.
