"Peace" of Nature

May 20, 2011
By MiniNips BRONZE, Racine, Minnesota
MiniNips BRONZE, Racine, Minnesota
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
We all share the same father...

The woods are a wonderful place. There are many things to help you relax when you’re out there. Lots of things there can take your mind off of anything that troubles you. There are noises, sounds, feelings, and sometimes even flavors that can distract you from anything that ails your mind. The woods are a very peaceful place, full of things to remove you from yourself.

To just sit out in the woods is to relax. To listen to the birds chirping as though an orchestra of natural sounds were surrounding you. Squirrels flit about in the grass and on the trees, jumping branches, not a care in the world. Sometimes you’ll spot a deer, ambling through the woods and enjoying life as only a deer may know. Nothing rushing about, knowing that this needs to be done at this time and we need to be there at that time… It’s as though there’s not a single care in the world… There’s not a thing that could bother you out there.

There are many colors too, enticingly splattered about in all places and patterns and shades. The green, so refreshing and new in the spring, and the reds, browns, oranges and yellows, beautifully mixing about, forming extravagant collages of color and shape in the fall… You can stare at these never-ending or beginning patterns, tracing them relentlessly, forming pictures with them, though never seeing any one repeating detail, or discovering new patterns that completely transform any picture you may have found already. Enticing new colors from different places in the expanse of peace you have found, always something new to see and explore… Why bother with anything when you never need to bother again?

And you can hear and smell so many things, each one more peaceful than the next or last in its own special way. The wonderfully fresh, musty smell after a rainfall or the smell of a secret meadow, hidden within the woods, having never been disturbed before… The smell of the river, slowly sliding around the trees and plants, singing away with its gentle, hypnotizing trance… The wind, carefully caressing every leaf and twig, every blade of grass, twirling and dancing around every tree trunk or animal, and pressing the wings of a bird, allowing it to glide, never having to worry about falling to the ground... There’s not a problem in the world. Nothing can bother you out there. Nothing can cause any bit of struggle, anxiety or pain. They don’t exist out in the woods. Everything is good.

A poem, written on a smooth peace of paper and the beautiful, leather binding that is the home to so many more of the same, each one exponentially more beautiful even yet - you can feel the beauty of it running through you. The lethargically enchanting beauty of nature and the peaceful lilt of words hidden within the poems held in your hand. The lack of trouble, of problems of any kind, or the warm sun, glowing off of your skin and the lush, wavy, emerald grass, cushioning you from the cool, soft earth… You could live there, leaning on that log and running that beautiful poem through your mind, staring at the sky that never ends… You never age a minute more than you have already while sitting out there in your own, personal haven, there’s nothing that can harm you, nothing that can get to you. It’s like the rest of the world doesn’t exist. There’s no need to worry about anything ever again.

Hunger can come from sitting out there, but it’s nothing to worry about. The luscious, plump berries are there, waiting just for you. Patches upon patches of sweet-smelling, juicy raspberries, grown by Mother Nature herself, encouraging you to take a step closer and to bite down on their deep red perfection. Blueberries, turning purple in the sun, clinging to the vine, defying gravity for the sole purpose of satisfying your taste buds... The heavenly taste of the purest sugar in the world, nestled within a columbine, and even the dark beauty of the flower itself, lurking in the shadows, a deep, red crimson as though it were a flower grown of blood… The ferns, ever-present alongside the columbine, hide their best friend in an enveloping and everlasting hug, wishing to never to let go.

You could bring your best friend out with you and combine the sheer joy of this wonderful place with the even more joyous feeling of love, both handed off and received. With happy laughter at silly clouds and contented sighs, a way of relieving yourself of your overwhelming joviality, you can empower your undying love, devotion and loyalty to your friend even more. You can bond, and with that bonding, increase your feeling of security, evermore increasing the satisfaction of this earthly haven you’ve found. You could live in this place, reliving every moment of anything happy in your mind, eternally happy within those thoughts of happiness, and sharing that happiness with your most loved person in the world. You would never leave again.

If only… Oh, if only it were true…

The author's comments:
This is another school essay. I figured I might as well include two. This one scored well too, but I don't remember how well. It's kind of a contradiction to my last essay.

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