My husband has family history in Athens.  He is not Greek; rather Texan.  His paternal side has a place in East Texas and we went for a short visit.  A couple of hours later outside of town majestic looking trees lined both sides of the road and escorted us on our drive.  We came to a place where my husband stopped to call the caretaker to please open the gate.  As we entered our tires ground a gritty hush along the dirt road and I tried to absorb the peacefulness of it all.  There was a sort of slowing I savored as he showed me around.  I liked the older wooden deck where water peaked out from between tall, spindly trees.  Pictured here is the lake just before sunset.  Then nature’s shroud of darkness surrounded us and we looked up to marvel in wonder at the brightness of the stars.  It was autumn and the crisp scent of pines was gentle in the chilly night air.  As I gazed out I realized how blessed we were to have access to such quiet beauty.  I almost did not want to go inside because I could not seem to drink in enough of the stillness that settled like a mantle over the woods.

“But especially he loved to run in the dim twilight of the summer midnights, listening to the subdued and sleepy murmurs of the forest, reading signs and sounds as a man may read a book, and seeking for the mysterious something that called—called, waking or sleeping, at all times, for him to come.” ~ Jack London, The Call of the Wild

The call of the wild has always beckoned me.  I believe true fortune rests on those lucky enough to “own” a piece of it:  wealth not in a huge house or haute couture; rather in the unfettered delight of the company of trees with all of their companions.  Money and travel are certainly blessings, but knowing the value of and preserving creation’s God-given glory in my opinion is priceless.