A moment of peace in the storm
It's been rough the past few months.
Every quarter of the school year has its own unique challenges. But the fourth quarter is exhaustion. The fourth quarter manifests as gradually coming in later and later to work. It manifests as kids shifting into summer mode. It manifests as survival meals, extra trips for ice cream, and later nights. It is overstimulation. This has been a rougher year under the Trump administration, which has continued to inflict racial, political, and economic violence upon the American people. Every day is something new.
As the temperature increases and the days grow longer, I've been increasingly reluctant to go on my Golden Hour walks. I've only walked three or four times since spring break. Unsurprisingly, my mental health has been struggling lately.
There is a storm rolling through in the next few days. The temperature and the humidity are both in the 80s, it's mostly cloudy, and especially windy. I decided on a whim to make myself go for a walk this evening.
And it is amazing how wonderful it was.
I decided to take my walk afield to the neighborhood near mine. This is my favorite destination to go to - quiet greenbelts, low lantern lamps, cozy homes, and human-oriented design. One of the elements I have been eying for a while is a little detention pond that winds behind the privacy fences of several homes in the area. These creeks are a clever little feature. Communities in the Houston area are required to plan for drainage as our city is prone to flooding and flat as a pancake.
As a result, neighborhoods are surrounded by these large spans of empty land that exist in the background of suburbia. They are not fulfilling their purpose most of the time and so they can easily become a source of recreation. They have entrances at certain points, providing an added amenity to home buyers. It's no longer just flooding infrastructure - it's urban trails and green space.
I took a step into the grass and onto the dirt trail for the first time.
There were a few gaps of blue in the sky, but it was mostly dark grey. I took out my earbud and just listened to the wind. A bit farther along the trail, the playful laughter of neighborhood children started to disappear, replaced by the sound of insects singing in the warm spring evening. The rain last week meant the grass was especially green. Birds played in the water or settled in large flocks. Rows of suburban housing and privacy fencing, usually creating a sense of isolation and placelessness ... well, kind of did exactly that. I had that flash of green, that breath of fresh air, that open sky all to myself while walking through a memory of my childhood, navigating green paths to my friend's place after school. It's amazing how what I normally criticize urban design for can be beautiful when utilized intentionally.
At one point, the clouds opened up with a few heavy droplets of rain. Not a storm, but just enough to cool my skin in the breeze. The clouds quickly drew back as if the great and uncaring sky had decided to mercifully bless its weary pilgrim - just this once.
It was a much needed moment of peace in the storm. I needed a reminder:
I am nothing to the universe. The world won't end if I just let myself be at peace for an hour or two.