To get off Twitter, to unfollow and unsubscribe, to turn off the talking heads, even if for just a little while. It’s advice that echoes a favorite poem of mine by Kentucky writer and farmer Wendell Berry called “The Peace of Wild Things,” which begins:
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.
