Mikki Brisk

“Nature is the art of God.”

Sir Thomas Browne

(1605 – 1682)

As much as I love Los Angeles, I often feel as if I’m enduring Los Angeles. It’s a city. It’s a crazy-ass city, at that. And parts of this town and its environs are breathtakingly beautiful.

 

 

Saturday morning, Mister and I hiked a trail that was mostly deserted. There was a fine mist in the air and the ground was soft beneath our feet. For that short two and a half miles, we were able to “get away.”

 

 

But it didn’t quite do the trick. And it must be showing, because on Sunday morning I was talking with a cuzzin in Georgia and she responded to a big chunk of what I was saying by telling me it sounded like I needed to get a good dose of nature.

 

 

Nature. I think about it. Sometimes I dream about it. I imagine how it smells. How it sounds. I imagine the weight (or weightlessness) of the air. And the taste of that air.

 

 

Just last night, I saw a commercial for America’s Gulf Coast. The cities didn’t pull me in. The resorts? No, thank you. I just wanted to sit on that white sand, with my feet in the water. For a moment, I imagined the quiet of that beach. The solitude and the bonding betwixt myself and the shore. It was a lovely mental moment.

 

 

I don’t have a vacation on my calendar any time soon. And that’s okay. But I do believe I might have to plan a little jaunt into the nearby mountains. As much as I love this city, I need to see the art of God. And Nature is the museum of choice for those great works.