In our neighborhood there are a few small pieces of land that feel wild. The place where Pearl is playing here is at the edge of a city park. It is a small patch of woods on a very steep hill that has never been developed. This property used to be an old unofficial city dump and you can still find shoe soles and sometimes unbroken milk bottles from local creameries that have long since disappeared.
I love these little patches of wilderness right here in the city. I like them for the way they mirror my own internal wildness and unsolved mystery. I think it is important in life that we leave some territory for poison-ivy and tangled undergrowth. We need places that don't make sense and just are. We need cats that still have their claws. We need this more than money in the bank, more than we need our shirts ironed and our shoes polished.
I have several stain spots on my pants today and I will not be shaving. I have not taken a bath for five days (but I did clean the house this morning and the kitchen is spotless). I want to listen to the call of the wild today. I want to move in the unforced rhythms of grace. I plan to "be like the fox who makes more tracks than necessary, some in the wrong direction" (Wendell Berry) but don't follow me,--- get lost in your own chunk of the woods.