Today I discussed with a friend long walks, especially those taken in a forest. When you go for a walk, alone, in a forest, it allows the mind to clear, and you start to find yourself, your humanity.
My friend said that there is also the pain, that when you have walked 20 kilometers, your feet start to be tired and hurt, and at that point you start to feel free. Well, 20 km is a bit much for me, but indeed, if you walk for two hours in a forest, the tiredness is something that can feel really good. You may be in pain, but it is a good pain.
And then there is something about the forest, and nature in general. It doesn't need to be a beautiful forest, any forest will do, but of course a wild forest is an experience in itself.
Today I commuted by car, and as my oldest daughter is now sick and has fever, I decided to go for a walk alone, to Tremanskärr swamps and forests and to lake Kurkijärvi.
There were mosquitoes, sometimes quite a lot of them, and I got bitten, but that didn't matter. It was just pain.
Posting title is from the poem In Praise of Pain by Heather McHugh.
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A moment of profound silence followed.
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