This is Bird Note.

Let's listen to the words of nature poet Wendell Berry in his poem entitled,

The Peace of Wild Things.

When despair for the world grows in me,

and I wake in the night at the least sound,

in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,

I go and lie down where the wood Drake rests in his beauty on the water,

and the great heron feeds.

I come into the peace of wild things, who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief.

I come into the presence of still water, and I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting

with their light.

For a time, I rest in the grace of the world and am free.

Where do you go to rest and renew yourself in nature?

Where do you come into the peace of wild things?

For Bird Note, I'm Michael Stein.