In about 1952 when I was eight years old, our lawn was bordered on one side by woods. It was in Oviedo, Florida. For someone eight years old, the woods are fascinating for they are filled by young plant growth as well as decaying trees that are regularly drilled for insects by resounding redheaded woodpeckers. There are plants and animals of all types--large and small, fascinating and beautiful. Neat trails led here and there throughout the undergrowth. At the end of one of these trails was a sanctuary we boys had edged out of tall green grass that was tall as our heads. Towering trees surrounded the perimeter. Sometimes several of us would quietly meet there, and sometimes in silence I would be alone. Recently in one of my blogs, I referred to standing alone before nature’s altar. This was the spot I had in mind. The sense of sacredness and awe was suffusive and unforgettable.
