On two separate afternoons, I watch my youngest bundle up and go outside to play in the snow alone.
Later, I find that she’s examining the snow, looking for animal tracks, and making her own sledding paths.
She’s an extrovert, yet she has stuff to do out there by herself.
I remember all those days I played alone in my backyard. I remember the white expanse of snow and my small self waving snow angels in it.
When you’re alone out there in nature, something happens to you. You connect with yourself, with God, and with nature, and you grow up a little. You think about things and maintain the pure satisfaction that the whole experience was between you and God. Nobody saw what you saw. Nobody felt what you felt or thought your thoughts. You become a you–without anyone’s commentary on what you’re doing.
Sometimes we need to go out there alone for awhile.
Do you have fond memories of being alone in nature?