Blowin’ in the Wind: “Seasons of Nature” -- by Ilana

("Blowin’ in the Wind" is a periodic feature on my blog containing an assortment of nature writings – songs, excerpts, poems, prayers, Bible readings or other things – pieces written by others but that inspire me or give me joy. I trust they’ll do the same for you.)

I know I just did a “BitW” feature last month, and I cannot recall if I’ve ever shared a work by a family member, but I cannot resist avoiding either of these this month. My wife Gail and I just received a special gift from our eight-year-old granddaughter Ilana, and it tickled us so that I thought you might appreciate it as well. 

Each of our eleven grandchildren has their own special personality, and we love every one of them more than life itself. Ilana? She is a beautiful child full of the wonder of life, and of the love both of people and of God’s creation. She is also a ton of fun to be around in spite of the fact that she sometimes tells me I have been demoted to ‘the second-funniest person in the family’ behind our son, her Uncle Jarrett. But that never lasts long, and she typically and appropriately restores me to the throne quite quickly. (Sorry, Jarrett...)

And the girl DOES love God’s creation! It is always a pleasure to hike with her because she notices things, a key characteristic of nature lovers and all of us who find in nature an important spiritual pathway to God. She also calls herself Grandpa’s ‘nature companion’ whenever she and I hop on our ATV and pick up trash along the county road near our Michigan cabin. In other words, she is already concerned about Earth care. It’s therefore fitting that her name is even natural: ‘ilana’ is one of several Hebrew words for ‘tree,’ most often associated with oaks. That was not surprising when we first heard her name after her birth, as her father is a horticulturist, though I don’t know if that had anything to do with it at the time!

Upon our arrival for a visit last month, Ilana told Gail and me she had something for us, then with a shy smile gave us the hand-printed original of a poem she had written a few days before during a rest time she and her sibs take after lunch. We thought it precious, and so I present to you here Ilana’s “Seasons of Nature,” with her spellings and punctuation intact. Enjoy!

When the first snowflakes fall

When one by one they start then thousands shimer in the sky

When fluffy snow covers everything

When sparkling white they glisten megestic do they look

When few sounds nor animals are there only robins or none

Then do you know that Winter is here.

When the drifts are small yet get smaller each day

When the flowers peek from the wet soil

When the air is warm and damp

When animals wake up and continue their lives

When the areas are colerful 

Then do you know that spring is here

When the leaves on the trees turn green

When the air is schorching

When water is the want for outside fun

When ice cream and cold treats turn from a cream to a liquid faster than a hummingbird

When animals are everywhere trees, grass, sky

Then do you know that summer is here

When the air becomes colder and jackets required

When the leaves turn vibrant colers of yellow, orange and, bloodred

When nuts fall to the ground

When animals scurry to get food and store it for winter

When people start getting snow shovels and hot chochlate

Then do you know that Autum is here

I want to live nowhere else for

Seasons Make a year a year.

And, oh, I can’t forget her dedication from the back of the page: 

Dedicated

To

Papa and

Grandma

Whom love

Me and Nature

Very much

With Love

Isn’t that delightful? The simple, fresh and wondering thoughts of a child… amazingly compelling. 

I don’t know if you’ve paid attention to a malady that is oft-touted by psychologists over the last two decades, but the dysfunction has to do with nature deprivation. Exposure to the natural world has been proven to improve mental, social and emotional health in profound ways, to say nothing of the spiritual dimension of celebrating the beauty of the Lord’s sanctuary. Nature outings are being prescribed as treatment for both adults and kids. We’d all do our children and grandchildren an enormous service by getting them outdoors regularly, establishing natural rhythms and opportunity for healing while they are young, whether they are super eager to go or not. 

Please excuse my diversion into preaching -- it’s an occupational hazard! So skip that paragraph, take a deep breath, let it out slowly, and go back and read Ilana’s poem again. Then getcha self outdoors at the next possible opportunity.

~~ From a Grandpa ‘whom’ loves his grand-

children and nature very, VERY much, 

RGM, March 19 2024

QOTM...*: Viktor Frankl

(*Quote of the Month)

OK, I’ve got a pretty penetrating excerpt this week for my Quote of the Month. It’s from Austrian psychologist Viktor Frankl’s, Man’s Search for Meaning. I’ll admit it is also more of a passage than a quote, but I wanted to share it in its entirety, as it is pretty incredible, particularly within its circumstance.

Frankl (1905-1997) was a three-year survivor of several Nazi death camps during World War 2, liberated in 1945, and became a world-renowned psychologist following the war and founder of a psychological approach called logotherapy: its major tenets include finding meaning in all experiences of life, including horrific suffering. Man’s Search for Meaning (1946) was his first book, rewritten after his notes were taken from him and destroyed in his first prison camp assignment. This is a profound book, and yet is one of 39 written by him. I read it again recently, just a tiny little thing, in which he first describes his Holocaust experiences and then draws conclusions for the foundations of his philosophy. It is a simple but very thoughtful read. (Hit this link for more quotes from this insightful book.)

One of his recollections referred to the healing effect of natural beauty within the context of their misery. Here we go:

As the inner life of the prisoner tended to become more intense, he also experienced the beauty of art and nature as never before. Under their influence he sometimes even forgot his own frightful circumstances. If someone had seen our faces on the journey from Auschwitz to a Bavarian camp, as we beheld through the little barred windows of the prison carriage the mountains of Salzburg with their summits glowing in the sunset, he would never have believed that those were the faces of men who had given up all hope of life and liberty. Despite that factor -- or maybe because of it -- we were carried away by nature’s beauty, which we had missed for so long.

…the healing effect of natural beauty

within the context of… misery…

In camp, too, a man might draw the attention of a comrade working next to him to a nice view of the setting sun shining through the tall trees of the Bavarian woods, the same woods in which we had built a hidden munitions plant. One evening, when we were already resting on the floor of our hut, dead tired, soup bowls in hand, a fellow prisoner rushed in and asked us to run out to the assembly grounds and see the wonderful sunset. Standing outside we saw clouds glowing in the west and the whole sky alive with clouds of ever-changing shapes and colors, from steel blue to blood red. The desolate grey mud huts provided a sharp contrast, while the puddles on the muddy ground reflected the glowing sky. Then, after minutes of moving silence, one prisoner said to another, “How beautiful the world could be!”

It gave me joy to read this, imagining these tormented men in this situation. God’s creation truly does possess a remarkable ability to lift us, to draw our spirit to a higher plane of mindfulness, contemplation and delight, regardless of our circumstances.

~~ RGM, January 23, 2014

P.S. A key to Frankl’s psychological philosophy is that, no matter our circumstances, good or appalling, the opportunity is still ours to choose our response to it. No wonder he and others could find a modicum of pleasure even in the prison camp context. That’s something for us all to muse upon a bit this week.