We are fallen in mostly broken pieces

Autumn Sky pic1

I imagined the wind moving through all these places, and many more like them: places that were separated from one another by roads and housing, fences and shopping-centres, street-lights and cities, but were joined across space at that time by their wildness in the wind. We are fallen in mostly broken pieces, I thought, but the wild can still return us to ourselves.

            Then I looked back out across the landscape before me: the roads, the railway, the incinerator tower, the woodlands – Mag’s Hill Wood, Nine Wells Wood, Wormwood. The woods were spread out across the land and all were seething.

Wildness was here too, a short mile south of the town in which I lived. It was set about by roads and buildings, much of it was menaced, some of it was dying. But at that moment the land seemed to ring with a wild light.

Robert MacFarlane, The Wild Places (Granta 2007).

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s