Wednesday, August 18, 2004

Romancing the Grove

In my lack of originality this morning I present an "Archived Journal Entry" from years past:

from JULY TWENTY-THIRD, TWO-THOUSAND TWO

I took a walk in the woods. I could not sit anywhere - it was as if nature was against me - my enemy. She had the power to terrify my soul with one buzz of the horsefly. It swooped my ear - and my insides trembled with a fear and an urge to run - far away from the woods.

from JULY TWENTY-FOURTH, TWO-THOUSAND TWO

As I returned to nature today, I suddenly felt the reason she (nature) was so angry with me was that I was not married to her, and yet I was romancing her.

But today - so now - I expressed my intent - and now I sit alone, smiling within - surrounded by her long-legged trees, her perfectly choreographed "dance of the leaves," her delicious, melodious wind song.

And the insects' presence are beautiful accents instead of terrifying soul hunters.

And they say that she is cursed! Bah! She is my beauty, my bride, my sister.

And the eyes of my eyes are opening.

My God - how beautiful - a magnificent 'call and answer!' Just now, a plane flew overhead - man's triumph of the skies - a marvel of his creation. Then, shortly after, the symphony continued as, once the plane's vibrations were out of ear-shot, 2 geese took flight from the east, screaming and honking across the horizon to match man's cry.

2 comments:

kev said...

There is a flying insect about three times the size of wasp and similar in shape and design that flies with its partner around a building on campus. All they do is catch cicadas (huge in and of themselves) and bury them to eat later. I, on the other hand, work forty hours a week and have a butcher shop in a different state deliver food to my local deli for me to buy and burn. Let the planes fly over our heads, and the cars roar by - I'll sit in the woods and dig your words without rhyme or reason as to why.

Sitting in the woods and waiting for the bustling of "civilization" to die down so the bustling of real life can be heard. Awesome every time.

Mom and Dad Harden said...

Dammit Trevor, you are a phenomenal writer. Beautiful, makes you wonder how God got so stinking creative.. I mean He's God and all, but I just forget how amazing his creation is sometimes. I love reading your thoughts almost as much as I love kissing you. God made up kissing too you know, just for the record... Amy