I heard their strong bugle and watched as the sandhill cranes landed on the soggy earth; earth recently revealed after months of frozen slumber. On graceful legs they moved in unison searching the ridges and crevices of the ground for sustenance.
Above me, clouds moved swiftly like the birds, constant and unchanging in their flow.
On a distant slope four deer emerged from the tree line and crossed the field together at soft angles until they disappeared behind more distant trees.
Almost beyond sight the sandhills continued to troll the earth together.
Rain began to fall, and I heard its drops land on the roof of my car and on the soft ground outside my open window, and I heard the calls of secluded songbirds sound between them.
I backed my car from bare road onto the paved one, hoping to prevent my tires from becoming stuck in the increasing softness of the soft earth.
And as I turned to pull away from the view that grew me whole again, seeing it recede in my rear view mirror I knew why the presence of nature, even as found in patchy sections of tilled up farmland has always been my equanimity.
Because outside was safer than inside, because peace is knowing your place among everything else. Because here, I am not wrong or right, I carry no judgement or praise, no failure or success, because nature balances nature. Because here I am not the scale, but a weight in the balance of all things.
Because here I am me and I am nothing. Because here I am home.