Most people hold in their mind the particulars of certain places where they’ve experienced that intuitive sense of not merely of belonging there but feeling entirely integrated into the environment about it.
Its those places where one has a sense of being part of and being at home with not merely the natural landscape but the wildlife, and all the associative senses which never leave our minds.
It may be a place where we’re living right now, visit often, or experienced once.
Its not the amount of time spent there that determines how integrated we’ve felt there as much as how it makes us feel returned, as if this is where one belongs.
Sentiment, yes, is surely a factor in our perception of such places, as is the memories of time spent there with those we love.
Being in a place which makes one simply sigh deep as if to inhale every aspect of it (and relax in the process) is based on more than associative pleasantry, however.
It is perhaps even more a response to the other forms of life which are forever there, in one incarnation or another. Yes, the trees and the birds. When one finds oneself in such places, the good old reliable trees and bird seem to move from background to foreground, as if to define and even own that place.
And while making one’s primary residence in just such a place may seem to make the statement of it being where one belongs, the truth of course is that we can all have many multiple such places that make us feel this way.
Most associate this place with the famous rock concert named for it, used to symbolize a generation (in fact, the 1969 Woodstock Musical Festival took place 60 miles away in the town of Bethel, since the town of Woodstock did not grant a permit for it to be held there).
Rather, for me it is greatly a personal place, where summertimes were enjoyed and family members still live, and where particular genres of landscape painting and Arts and Crafts furnishing which speak to my taste were born.
Yet even without the appeal of the heart and the eye, Woodstock remains consistently a peace of green. The type of place where peace is found as naturally in the white-spired Dutch Reformed Church as it is in the mountaintop Buddhist monastery,
But even without a family member who blossoms goodness and hope perpetually, or its colonial Dutch stone cottages and Arts and Crafts hammered copper, Woodstock will always be a place to find a peace of green.
All types of trees and forms of leaves, offering subtle but distinct scents define it, all through it variations of woods, forests and mountains.
And all those many trees serve as homes to the funny little fellows who don’t care if we’re listening to them or not.
During recent time spent there, I sighed deep and did listen in, as I looked around to take it in.
It is, as it always has been, a peace of green.
Here, now, if you need a moment to breath, is a record of it:
- Why Hippies And Hipsters Love Woodstock, New York (businessinsider.com)
- Apparel Display the Woodstock Way (fixturescloseup.com)
- Peace, Love, Music and Mud: LIFE at Woodstock (life.time.com)
- The Lobby, Woodstock (youthlogcapetown.wordpress.com)
Categories: Peace of Green