Occasionally a blog entry will touch a spot in me that makes me do something…Cate’s “ramble” today was one…

Beyond the Fields We Know: Looking for…
Some places arrange themselves perfectly in eye and viewfinder, and yet they do not speak or sing. Others, often on cold, dank and foggy days, arrange themselves easily in neither eye nor lens, but they tug at the sensibilities like a dancing kite on a sunny morning or a fey harp being played somewhere over the hills and far away.

Such places, and they always seem to be wild places, call us out of ourselves and into something greater and more magnificent than we will ever be able to comprehend with our feeble human brains.

Her words spoke of the call I sometimes feel in the wild, sacred places I am lucky enough to stumble upon in my own rambles through life. And her quote from Barbara Kingsolver’s Last Stand: America’s Virgin Lands,  caused me to chase down a copy for myself. Here is the quote:

“In the places that call me out, I know I’ll recover my wordless childhood trust in the largeness of life and its willingness to take me in.”

Thanks Cate.  I loved the image too…