I see the scurry out of the corner of my eye; dozens of
subtle, but hurried, movements. A steady row of ants are traversing the taut,
silver strands of a barbed wire fence. They are obviously on a mission. Their
black and russet bodies shine as they retrace the steps of the comrade ahead.
This is life. The tiny beings are doing what they do every day. My gaze follows
them to the right and into the boughs of a massive cedar tree. Looking to the left,
the line of ants travel along the barbed wire to a wooden fence post. This is
where the two lines seem jumbled together….the north bound line and the south
bound line. No doubt, there is more order than I can see or understand, but to my
eyes, it is chaos at this junction. There, where the wire and the wood
intersect, so too intersects the lines of ants. Then I see the south bound
bodies. They have not lost any of their determination as they travel along the
horizontal wooden post that anchors the corner of the fence. I follow their
journey as the line marches down the angled wire and becomes lost in the tall,
winter grass. There is water close by. Perhaps they are collecting water. I
ponder for a while. Are they moving water to the cedar tree? Are they moving
something from the cedar tree to their nest in the ground? Are they moving
their nest? Watching the ants reminds me, once again, that Nature does not alter
its design in response to the occurrences of the outer world. 
I am basically “sheltered in place” as directed, to slow the
pandemic spread. It doesn’t feel like a burden most days. I have the luxury of
working from home, which gives me back an hour and a half of my day. I currently
have a 10-second commute. I rise with the sun and enjoy a strong cup of tea on
the patio or at my writing desk as I check in with my coworkers and start my
work day. My lunch hour allows time to walk to the pond, prepare potato soup
for dinner, or get in a training session in the barn gym. 
It’s so easy to forget why I am getting to enjoy this
temporary lifestyle as the last clumps of daffodils bloom at the edge of the
yard. Their bright, yellow color cries out against the grays and browns of the
trees and the rocky ravine just behind. Their only competition for attention is
the bold fuchsia of the native redbuds. The song of the birds add another
dimension to the rhythm of my days. How can there be such heartache and
uncertainty in the world? How can so many people be hurting, ailing, and dying?
The wrens are fighting over the birdhouses on the back patio. How can this make
sense?
I allow myself no more than one daily hour of news. That keeps
me current on new rules and regulations mandated by the federal and state
authorities, but does not overwhelm me with fear and emotion. It’s enough. Too
much news and I can begin to feel hopeless and helpless. That’s where the power
of Nature comes into play. It grounds me. It always has.
Nature has long been my stabilizer. And I am not alone. I
have had several conversations on this topic in recent days. Many friends have
stated the healing power of nature in their lives. In the midst of this public
health and economic crisis, Nature reminds us that some things are truly stable
and consistent. Look for those things. Seek them out. Go outside, if at all
possible. Search for the new growth of Spring….the call of a bird….the blooming
flower…..the pattern in the bark of a tree. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Look for the design and architecture of the trees….how
they lean into each other and reach for the sun. Lay on your back and watch the
clouds, pondering their shape.
I remind myself that I can only make an impact within my
circle of influence. That’s all any of us can do and that circle is different for
each of us. I use my time in Nature to balance the outer world chaos with some
inner world calm. I highly recommend it….because the ants still go marching one
by one…..Hurrah….Hurrah.
