The longer I dwell in the city, the more it seems that I crave the peace and quite of the country.
On a particularly glum day for me last week, I woke up early, put on my jeans and t-shirt, and got in my car. I did not put on my dress pants and blouse and ride the subway downtown, even though it was the middle of the week. No, I needed a moment's peace, and I knew exactly where I could find it. I pointed my car northwest and drove until the concrete disappeared behind me, and fields of green extended for kilometers upon kilometers.
What should have been a 2 1/2 hour drive home, found its way well past 3 hours.
When I was safely out of the city, away from the noise, traffic and smog, and I pulled my car over to the side of the road. The crunch of the gravel shoulder subsided as I rolled to a stop. Not another car in sight. I emerged from my car, and walked around the passenger's side. I sat down on the shoulder, and rested my head again the car door. Before me was a farm field as far as the eye could see. The wind blew gently, making the tall grasses bow and sway with a rhythm that was in sync with what my heart was looking for. The occasional car drove by, but I barely noticed. I stared out across the land, taking in deep breaths, closing my eyes from time to time. The sun was breaking through the clouds that were slowly dissipating, beaming down to warm my face.
This is peace. This is serenity. This is where I find my centre.
I stood up, took one last long look at the expansive meadow. The day seemed a bit brighter now; the drive before me less daunting. I knew now that I could make it.
I had found my green peace.