Learning to Remain Still
Fragments I There is something curious that happens when you spend long enough in wild places. At first, like most people, you arrive with expectation. You hope to see something. You look constantly toward the horizon, scanning the landscape for movement, for activity, for that moment of discovery that justifies the journey. But nature rarely works on our timetable. Over time I have learned that finding what you seek is not always about searching harder. More often, it requires the exact opposite. It requires stillness. Working on my recent encounters with Hartmann’s Mountain Zebra has reminded me of this lesson repeatedly. In the harsh and often unforgiving environment in which they survive, nothing happens quickly. Water is never assumed. Shelter is scarce. Movement is deliberate. Energy is conserved. And so, in order to truly observe them, one has to begin surrendering one’s own sense of urgency. Waiting becomes part of the process. I have spent long periods simply sitting qu...