How I Go to the Woods } by Mary Oliver
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.from Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver (Penguin Press, 2017).
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This is also how I go to the woods. Even living as I do in the forest, I prefer to walk alone. Even when I crave the company of friends, women especially, I am a wee bit resentful of sharing my walks. It's a different kind of walk with company. And it's not just me. The mosses seem to tuck their tiny heads under their arms, the lichen doesn't dance as lightly in the breeze, the trees are quieter and the rocks don't sing.