All my life through, the new sights of Nature made me rejoice like a child. And children know what we adults often forget, that is—our bodies are made to move, to "embody" our joy, to keep us in touch with our own breath and pulse, and to make us feel alive.
A week of silence had tipped the balance from the desire for external rewards to the intrinsic value of being. I passed the oak I'd sat on the day before. This was happiness: witting in a tree. Lying in the grass. Feeling the fog or the sunshine touching my skin. Watching a hawk circle. All anbition and seeking had fallen away. Even my desire to cling to the sensations of the moment had dissolved. I only wanted to live my life while it was happening, not enmeshed in the past of all that lives.