Nature Once Removed (Midterm)
The bitter day had nearly reached its end, but somehow, the sunlight still fought to dominate the horizon. The silhouette of the sunset was stunning enough for the birds and the rabbits to cease their activities for the day, and return to the nest. The glare threw an array of reds and purples into the sky, but they too, would soon disappear.
A figure emerged from the bushes along the pathway covered in leaves and dirt. The woman, human by nature, stepped onto the fallen leaves and onto the walk, a stroll meant for one person to hike by the river. It was steep and narrow, but the woman had been by this way many a time, and knew the task ahead of her. Trees hung low and their branches tickled the top of her head. Rushing water was within three paces, and though the rolling current sang its peaceful song to her, she was not wavered by the temptation.
Julia would belong there in time.
The path itself was one she had been carving with her own footsteps for five years. She didn’t pay any mind to where her foot fell, because she knew the ground was solid and would lift her high. Perhaps others had traveled behind her in this journey, single-file, like ants in a long line, but she didn’t believe it.
Julia was just short of arriving to her favorite place in the entire world. To anyone else, it may have been nothing more than a rotted picnic table under an oak tree. To Julia, it may have been her own deliverance from grappling with the past, and the truth that inevitably followed it.
One final step over a fallen log took her up to a tiny paradise above the riverbed. The large oak tree had protected this faithful overlook for at least a century, while the red rotted picnic table had seen its share of better days. It was an eyesore compared to the true exquisiteness of nature surrounding the tree and the woman, but it provided some sense of misplaced comfort; the table was large enough for a family picnic, but nature didn’t want that trash sticking around.
As Julia carefully raised herself onto the surface, she breathed in what was around her. The presence of fall crinkled the inside of her nose, and smelled as beautiful as every auburn leaf within it. The table jumped inside as well, and suddenly autumn became musty and plausible. She sat down and listened intently for the screeching of the rusted legs underneath her weight.
A small scratchy voice summoned her attention from the tree, and she leaned back to acknowledge it. Julia smiled, her mouth opening slightly to gather the tangy taste of an imminent chilly frost, and watched the squirrel scurry up the tree with a winter feast. Her eyes followed it cautiously, as if she had recognized the individual walking by, but didn’t want to turn back to inquire. Soon, it was lost in a curtain of leaves, and with it, the proof they had ever met.
Julia swung one leg over the side of the table, and lifted her hand upward to touch a leaf that was attached to the tree branch by pure will. The edge of the leaf danced contentedly with the edge of her finger - a ballet duet without imperfection - and then it let go. A swift southern wind brushed past her neck and carried her dance partner over the bank and into the water below. It rested itself gently on top of the water and began to rock with the current. Julia bid farewell - have a safe trip, good-bye my friend - and closed her eyes for a moment to listen to the river take it away. The acoustic sound of the waves riding over the rocks filled her heart with joy.
She could never get enough; it was always around her. The sights, the smells, the senses of nature were surrounding her every single moment. There was nothing better than coming back to what she reminisced of most. The trees, the leaves, the water; it was an endless circle of life - constant adaptation and refining of the system. Nothing had to be wasted, because everything held its own purpose in the world. Julia knew her purpose within nature, because that was where she was born. However, it was disappointing to her how humans could forget their own roots like that.
Every time she visited the city, Julia saw a part of nature in everything. To her, a cityscape was actually a grove of trees, with the footprints of animals on the streets to lead the way. Every chair was a boulder, every stitch in the carpet was a blade of grass; every object she saw originated from nature. Going to town was always an adventure, but she never went unless she had to. Each manmade object that was not created directly from the source was simply a phony imitation of the real thing. Nature ruled the design of modern mankind, and she was furious how the modern man had since designed the rules of nature.
Bridges and dams blocked the natural flow of water, and either forced life elsewhere, or eliminated it. Cutting down the trees of the forests did the same, but it made room for developers to take over the land. Cars and trucks, electricity and air-conditioning; it was all designed to manipulate nature to fit the needs of civilization, when in truth, it existed all along. Invention allowed for humanity to build a bigger, better version of itself. It didn’t solve problems within nature; it only created them.
It was funny how her mind seemed to wander aimlessly when she came to her favorite spot, but that was part of the reason why it was there. Any ailment she felt coming on by stress would be fixed under the oak tree. There was something in nature that was strangely, but ultimately soothing about it. The river and its system of subsistence was an ongoing process, and that in itself was something to admire. Humanity was trained to believe existence depended on electricity, natural gas and running water, and that was something to be ashamed of.
Sometimes, Julia wished she was a fish, so she could make her way downstream, and to the ends of the shores where borders no longer decided her path. Julia wished she was a bird, so she could fly into the clouds, and the only worry on her mind would be how much higher it was to the heavens. She wished she could be any animal - every animal - so long as it wasn’t the one she was now.
A figure emerged from the bushes along the pathway covered in leaves and dirt. The woman, human by nature, stepped onto the fallen leaves and onto the walk, a stroll meant for one person to hike by the river. It was steep and narrow, but the woman had been by this way many a time, and knew the task ahead of her. Trees hung low and their branches tickled the top of her head. Rushing water was within three paces, and though the rolling current sang its peaceful song to her, she was not wavered by the temptation.
Julia would belong there in time.
The path itself was one she had been carving with her own footsteps for five years. She didn’t pay any mind to where her foot fell, because she knew the ground was solid and would lift her high. Perhaps others had traveled behind her in this journey, single-file, like ants in a long line, but she didn’t believe it.
Julia was just short of arriving to her favorite place in the entire world. To anyone else, it may have been nothing more than a rotted picnic table under an oak tree. To Julia, it may have been her own deliverance from grappling with the past, and the truth that inevitably followed it.
One final step over a fallen log took her up to a tiny paradise above the riverbed. The large oak tree had protected this faithful overlook for at least a century, while the red rotted picnic table had seen its share of better days. It was an eyesore compared to the true exquisiteness of nature surrounding the tree and the woman, but it provided some sense of misplaced comfort; the table was large enough for a family picnic, but nature didn’t want that trash sticking around.
As Julia carefully raised herself onto the surface, she breathed in what was around her. The presence of fall crinkled the inside of her nose, and smelled as beautiful as every auburn leaf within it. The table jumped inside as well, and suddenly autumn became musty and plausible. She sat down and listened intently for the screeching of the rusted legs underneath her weight.
A small scratchy voice summoned her attention from the tree, and she leaned back to acknowledge it. Julia smiled, her mouth opening slightly to gather the tangy taste of an imminent chilly frost, and watched the squirrel scurry up the tree with a winter feast. Her eyes followed it cautiously, as if she had recognized the individual walking by, but didn’t want to turn back to inquire. Soon, it was lost in a curtain of leaves, and with it, the proof they had ever met.
Julia swung one leg over the side of the table, and lifted her hand upward to touch a leaf that was attached to the tree branch by pure will. The edge of the leaf danced contentedly with the edge of her finger - a ballet duet without imperfection - and then it let go. A swift southern wind brushed past her neck and carried her dance partner over the bank and into the water below. It rested itself gently on top of the water and began to rock with the current. Julia bid farewell - have a safe trip, good-bye my friend - and closed her eyes for a moment to listen to the river take it away. The acoustic sound of the waves riding over the rocks filled her heart with joy.
She could never get enough; it was always around her. The sights, the smells, the senses of nature were surrounding her every single moment. There was nothing better than coming back to what she reminisced of most. The trees, the leaves, the water; it was an endless circle of life - constant adaptation and refining of the system. Nothing had to be wasted, because everything held its own purpose in the world. Julia knew her purpose within nature, because that was where she was born. However, it was disappointing to her how humans could forget their own roots like that.
Every time she visited the city, Julia saw a part of nature in everything. To her, a cityscape was actually a grove of trees, with the footprints of animals on the streets to lead the way. Every chair was a boulder, every stitch in the carpet was a blade of grass; every object she saw originated from nature. Going to town was always an adventure, but she never went unless she had to. Each manmade object that was not created directly from the source was simply a phony imitation of the real thing. Nature ruled the design of modern mankind, and she was furious how the modern man had since designed the rules of nature.
Bridges and dams blocked the natural flow of water, and either forced life elsewhere, or eliminated it. Cutting down the trees of the forests did the same, but it made room for developers to take over the land. Cars and trucks, electricity and air-conditioning; it was all designed to manipulate nature to fit the needs of civilization, when in truth, it existed all along. Invention allowed for humanity to build a bigger, better version of itself. It didn’t solve problems within nature; it only created them.
It was funny how her mind seemed to wander aimlessly when she came to her favorite spot, but that was part of the reason why it was there. Any ailment she felt coming on by stress would be fixed under the oak tree. There was something in nature that was strangely, but ultimately soothing about it. The river and its system of subsistence was an ongoing process, and that in itself was something to admire. Humanity was trained to believe existence depended on electricity, natural gas and running water, and that was something to be ashamed of.
Sometimes, Julia wished she was a fish, so she could make her way downstream, and to the ends of the shores where borders no longer decided her path. Julia wished she was a bird, so she could fly into the clouds, and the only worry on her mind would be how much higher it was to the heavens. She wished she could be any animal - every animal - so long as it wasn’t the one she was now.