I talked to a snail the other day.

The little creature was almost all the way out of its shell as it lay on the black top of a parking lot.

“You got to get back to the ground, little guy or you’ll be run over by a car.”

I picked him up and carefully placed him near a grove of trees.

So before you stop reading this column and believe I should be sitting at the Funny Farm weaving baskets all day long, that snail reminded me of the powerful persuasion Mother Nature has had upon my life. In fact, I just might be a permanent resident of the Funny Farm if I didn’t spend much of my childhood outside the walls of my house where sadness and depression plagued my family.

I have written about nature many times because words and woods make the perfect love affair. For centuries, writers have captured the essence of the seductive mysticism and awesome beauty of the natural universe.

Our lives are burdened with confusion. We can’t find answers to questions about why this or why that happens to us. Albert Einstein wrote, “Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better.” The wonder of it all is that we don’t know why, but being outdoors inside the arms of Mother Earth, we find that her peace that surrounds us lifts our worries away with the wind.

Henry David Thoreau drank the medicinal tonic of the wilderness, too. “There are moments when all anxiety and stated toil are becalmed in the infinite leisure and repose of nature.”

In our busy lives, we don’t have time to waste and if we do, well, we don’t want to waste our time. We justify the hours we watch TV as our escape from the stress of work. Furthermore, we’ll spend countless minutes texting in belief that this is time well spent in contact with friends and family, but what if you walked outside with no phone and no one and you had a plan to relax with the earth? Would that be a waste of your time?

“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer’s day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.” Nineteenth century English banker and philanthropist, John Lubbock wrote these words. He was as busy as anyone, but finding time in the outdoors resting his mind and body was paramount to his ability to succeed in the corporate world.

We can say we have life, but can we say we are really living?

Italian actress Eleanora Duse spoke about awakening our senses. “If the sight of the blue skies fills you with joy, if a blade of grass springing up in the fields has power to move you, if the simple things of nature have a message that you understand, rejoice, for your soul is alive.”

I have an endearing friend who loves to garden, and the evidence of her green thumb is ablaze in color that’s everywhere in her yard. English poet Alfred Austin wrote about the glory of gardening and about those who toil in the dirt with their heads in the sun. “Show me your garden and I shall tell you what you are!”

Gardeners often make great friends. They carry peaceful natures along with love and compassion in their hearts. If you want an insight into a gardener’s character, just look around the property and you’ll know that a good person lives inside the home.

We set goals for ourselves to succeed and be happy. American professor of literature Joseph Campbell wrote, “The goal of life is to make your heartbeat match the beat of the universe, to match your nature with Nature.” His words need no interpretation, but perhaps songwriter Roger Miller put Campbell’s idea into a simpler thought.

“Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet.”

To me, the grand finale of an extraordinary description of nature comes from Clyde Edgerton in his novel, “Walking Across Egypt.” His character Maggie is in the twilight of her years and like us living on the senior stage, we can find ourselves thinking of death as much as we do of life. To the belief that heaven awaits us, then our departure should be at the perfectly still moment described by Edgerton.

“People thought that time never stood still, except in Joshua when the sun stood still; but Maggie knew that for a minute before sunrise when the sky began to lighten, showing dark early clouds, there was often a pause when nothing moved, not even time, and she was always happy to be up and in that moment; sometimes she tried to stand perfectly still, to not move with time not moving, and it seemed that if she were not careful she might slip out of this world and into another. That made the moment risky, bright shining, and very still at the same time. She hoped that when her time came, it would be close to morning, and she could wait for the still moment.”

Nature gifts us with still moments. Go out, get one and watch out for snails!

Rich Strack can be reached at katehep11@gmail.com.