I suppose we all have a place in our hearts, perhaps from childhood or another life time that makes the heart ache when you think about it. A place that has a strong pull but is sometimes too painful to think about because you know you can't go back. I learned to love nature in such a place. When I feel a connection to all the things that live and grow in the countryside I also feel a connection to the farm I grew up on.
I find this poem by Pablo Neruda particularly moving.
Lost in the forest, I broke off a dark twig
and lifted its whisper to my thirsty lips:
maybe it was the voice of the rain crying,
a cracked bell, or a torn heart.
Something from far off: it seemed
deep and secret to me, hidden by the earth,
a shout muffled by huge autumns,
by the moist half-opened darkness of leaves.
Wakening from the dreaming forest there, the hazel-sprig
sang under my tongue, its drifting fragrance
climbed up through my conscious mind
as if suddenly the roots I had left behind
cried out to me, the land I had lost with my childhood --
and I stopped, wounded by the wandering scent.
- Pablo Neruda
One-of-a-kind artist book by Jill Hubley. Click here
Falling in Place. A series by Redredday on Flickr. 
Book from Ronald Chase's Play series. 
