Sometimes I go down to the lake shore at around dusk, the gloaming, the closing of the day. In that magical twilight time the light changes. As it becomes less intense it softens and warms the reeds, the land, the fresh water.
In that quiet space, there is nothing to fear.
I used to jump at sudden movements or rustling in the long grass. The smallest crawly thing would make me recoil and yelp. But just by being out there and observing on a daily basis, I have begun to feel safer in the world.
We still startle each other out there. Sometimes a heron will fly in to land near where I am sitting and vere off suddenly spotting me at the last moment. An ocasional fish will spookily rise to the surface and eyeball me. A flying beetle will land on my lap.
But startling is one thing and threatening is another. There is a peaceful living side by side underlying it all, it is mainly I who must be extra careful not to create too much of a disturbance.