“Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better.” - Albert Einstein
As I sit here looking across Long Lake on this chilly afternoon, a steady flow of raindrops act as a river flowing down the ridges of my waterproof jacket. The mercury in my thermometer is slowly climbing to forty eight degrees fahrenheit. At this very moment, I am wishing that there were such thing as waterproof paper, because raindrops are finding their way to my two hundred page college ruled five star notebook and are starting to distort my writing. If I wouldn’t have procrastinated so much, I wouldn’t be sitting in the pouring rain writing about nature.
The lake is covered in a billion little ripples caused by the rain drops. I imagine the lake getting a mild beating from mother nature, which is comparable to the mild beating I endure while taking slap shots from the blue line. In life we face many beatings, either physical or emotional. The death of a loved one can greatly affect a person’s emotional state. However, I wouldn’t be the person I am today without having to fight through those hardships.
Devastation occurs in everybody’s lifetime.
The death of my grandma this spring had a huge effect on me. She was the woman I looked up to most in life. She was selfless, hardworking, caring, and loving. The morning I found out, I was up at 5:30 getting my things together to go lift, and I noticed my parents were gone. This was very strange because they both usually leave for work around 7:45. As soon as I was about to leave, I saw headlights coming down Bayview Drive, cutting through the morning fog. My mother walked up stairs with tears in her eyes and my heart instantly dropped. Before she said a word, I knew that my grandmother lost her fight with cancer. I missed the next three days of school because I couldn’t function with my emotional state.
There isn’t a single boat on the lake taking advantage of the fall bite. The lake is very calm. In less than two months, the lake will have a thin layer of ice on it, giving it the appearance of glass. It is crazy to think that just two months ago, the lake was full of boaters doing activities on the water such as tubing, skiing, and fishing. There was so much life on the lake, and now it just appears dead.
Every once in awhile, a slight gust of wind comes out of nowhere, just like a deer on the road at sunset. The wind is just strong enough to blow off the once lively leaves of the oak tree in my backyard. The leaves are now lifeless and brittle. The birds that are usually out and about are now in their nests and waiting out the rain. If I couldn’t hear the raindrops coming down on the cold ground, there would be complete silence. Like all good things, the rain was coming to an end. The animals; fully aware of the stoppage of rain, come out to resume their daily activities. I notice a squirrel burying an acorn that was likely knocked down by the tumbling rain. This squirrel can’t take a “sick day.” It needs to have enough food to survive the harsh grip of winter in Minnesota.
This squirrel is comparable to the lower class in our great country. The lower class have an important role in our country, and is made up of nearly forty percent of the population. I feel like they don’t get enough credit for what they do. They work hard everyday to bring home a paycheck that barely covers their bills and food expenses. They work to barely scrape by. This is the kind of work ethic that I admire, and strive to attain. When working in the summers, I make sure to arrive at work at least five minutes early, and never leave until the job is done.
I venture down to the dock to get closer to the lake that is suddenly teeming with life. It seems as if someone had flipped a switch that made all of the animals come out of their homes. An endless number of seagulls fly two hundred feet above the water in a non correlative fashion. It is truly breath taking watching so much life all heading in the same direction, North. As I look off into the distance I see an eagle circling over some tall Norway Pines at the top of the peninsula. The eagle seems to be searching for its next meal.
I look off to my right at the rocky shoreline to notice the colorful autumn leaves rustling in the wind. The leaves are genuinely beautiful; however, the leaves are actually dead. It is ironic that something dead can be so beautiful. Octobers in Minnesota simply cannot be beat. The mixture of colors in the sunset and fallen leaves come together to create perfect harmony. I am currently at total peace as I watch the blaze orange sun slowly disappear beyond the tree filled horizon.