Wendell Berry (1934–) is, Wikipedia tells me, “an American novelist, poet, essayist, environmental activist, cultural critic, and farmer.” I feel that I sort of know his name, but the poem below I found in my collection. I can’t remember where I found it. It’s the simplest of poems, almost prose, but expresses well the peace that can be found in nature. We at the UK Health Alliance on Climate Change want everybody to have access to good green space within a 15 minute walk. Now that half the world lives in cities many people do not have such access.

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.