the woods within
When we walk we naturally go to the fields and woods : what would become of us, if we walk only in a garden or a mall ? Even some sects of philosophers have felt the necessity of importing the woods to themselves, since they did not got to the woods. « They planted groves and wolks of Platanes, » where they took subdiales ambulationes in porticos open to the air. Of course it is no use to direct our steps to the woods, if they do not carry us thither. I am alarmed when it happens that I have walked a mile into the woods bodily, without getting there in spirit. In my afternoon walk I would fain forget all my morning occupations and my obligations to society. But it sometimes happens that I cannot easily shake off the village. The thought of some work will run in my head and I am not where my body is – I am out of my senses. In my walks I would fain return to my senses. What business have I in the woods, if I am thinking of something out of the woods ?
J’ai trouvé ce texte dans un livre de l’artiste cornelia schmidt-bleek, mais je ne me rappelle plus du nom de l’auteur.