One of my many goals of retirement was to become a nature writer, but I doubt if I’ll ever write anything comparable to Annie Dillard’s Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. Like Annie, I, too, have a deep visceral need to fully experience nature in every way possible. I find myself constantly drawn to the out of doors during all of the seasons, but I feel this sensory pull strongest during summer. Whether it’s visiting my vegetable garden, checking to see which of my flowers have recently bloomed or just quietly sitting on a bench up under our old dogwood tree, nature puts my soul at peace.
During the days of summer as a young child, I gathered rollypollies, earthworms, discarded wings of butterflies, colorful bird feathers and anything else I could stuff into my pockets. I still remain a collector of interesting textures and shapes ranging from recently discovering an abandoned wren nest to coming upon the carcass of a magnificent male Monarch butterfly.
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