by Chetna Jaraim, Resident
It’s only natural that I looked for familiarity when moving from the NW of Calgary to the SW. I’d gotten comfortable in our home of four years in Tuscany, surrounded by the view of the Rocky Mountains, spanning all the way to the right, and the downtown skyline on the left. It was nature, the openness, and the daily sunrises and sunsets that made every day picturesque.
Together with COVID and other struggles looming before us, a move to the SW left me questioning whether I would find the same sense of peace, nature, and community.
In times of stress and anxiety, looking out the south facing windows always brought about a calm. When affairs got noisy in my head, sitting on the deck, listening to the sound of the leaves from the many Swedish Columnar Aspens in my garden always brought perspective.
Psithurism. The sound the leaves make in the wind. You can’t help but ponder how each leaf works in unison with the others to churn out such an eloquent sound. It’s no musical masterpiece, by far, but it has more order in its chaos than any man-made composition.
That became my ultimate backdrop and how I bring the outdoors in.
Today, I call Prominence Park my home. You see, home can be anyplace, as long as you find something familiar. Now when I look out my window or sit on my deck, I see openness, I see trees enveloping the landscape, and when I close my eyes all I hear are the dancing leaves.
You might have heard that sound before. Haven’t we all. The difference is the vast space between hearing and listening. The difference in just being in the moment. As Oscar Wilde said, “It seems to me that we all look at nature too much and live with her too little.”
Now I might be cutting it too close to fall but, if you really listen while tuning out every other sound, you’ll hear nature’s very own instruments rustling while your surroundings fade into oblivion. And with that, I hope it brings you some reprieve from your troubles.
