How I Go to the Woods
Ordinarily
I go to the woods alone, with not a single friend, for they are all smilers and
talkers and therefore unsuitable.
I don’t
really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds or hugging the old black
oak tree. I have my way of praying, as you no doubt have yours.
Besides,
when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit on the top of a dune as
motionless as an uprise of weeds, until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can
hear the almost unhearable sound of the roses singing.
If you
have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love you very much.
Mary Oliver, Swan:Poems and Prose Poems
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