It is not easy to explain the feeling of ultimate freedom and relaxation one gets while walking alone in a forest or in a field. I don’t know quite what it is, but whenever life takes me astray or whenever I feel tired and stressed I love to take a walk. Either by myself or with someone who can be as silent as me at that moment. The further, the better. The quieter, the better. And while being away from people, from the noise of the city, from everyday talks, just nature and me, I suddenly feel less alone. Less pressured, less anxious. Just nature and me- and whoever else needs her gentle power of soothing our needs.

Rimbaud puts it well in one of his poems. Since I am not a poet (at least not in words!) here is a poem of his I fell in love with when I first read it. I must have been 15 at the time but the poem stuck with me ever since:



Par les soirs bleus d’été, j’irai dans les sentiers,
Picoté par les blés, fouler l’herbe menue :
Rêveur, j’en sentirai la fraîcheur à mes pieds.
Je laisserai le vent baigner ma tête nue.

Je ne parlerai pas, je ne penserai rien :
Mais l’amour infini me montera dans l’âme,
Et j’irai loin, bien loin, comme un bohémien,
Par la Nature, — heureux comme avec une femme.

Here is the English version I found to be a rather good translation:


On the blue summer evenings, I shall go down the paths,
Getting pricked by the corn, crushing the short grass:
In a dream I shall feel its coolness on my feet.
I shall let the wind bathe my bare head.

I shall not speak, I shall think about nothing:
But endless love will mount in my soul;
And I shall travel far, very far, like a gipsy,
Through the countryside – as happy as if I were with a woman.

Arthur Rimbaud
March 1870.

I am attaching a few photos I took during my strolls this summer.




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