A Grain of Sand February 13, 2008

A sudden gust of fresh wind and the rush of water come and go, both invigorating me.  I take a moment to enjoy the ocean air and the sounds of happy people all around me.  Overhead I hear the squawk of a seagull in search of another morsel of food.  It still astounds me that I am here.  This is certainly not how I started life.  My humble beginnings were very, very different.

In the beginning, I can only remember darkness and pressure.  There was pressure and heat all around me for a countless number of years.  All at once, it seemed as if the whole world had woken up.  There was a tremendous roar.  The earth in which I had been buried, had been suddenly torn open and pushed upwards.  Up, up, up we all went, slowly reaching towards the sky. 

I could see.  There was light and wind and rain.  It was such a tremendous change from the world I had been living in.  I was part of a mountain now.  Eventually, we grew to be covered in trees and that was a cool relief from the harsh sun.  All sorts of animals traversed over me as the years went by.  I began to forget all about the darkness.

Then one day a terrible wind started blowing and gusting.  It didn’t stop.  It was followed by a harsh unrelenting rain.  The rain seeped into the cracks of the mountain causing pieces to crumble all around me.  I was swept away from my mountain home and rushed towards the river below.  I was scared and did not know what to expect.  When we finally reached the river, I was submerged in rapidly moving water.  I tried desperately to anchor myself to anything I could find.  Eventually I found my way to the bottom of the river and nestled myself in as best as I could. 

It wasn’t so bad except for the unrelenting movement of the river.  It tossed us back and forth day by day, slowly grinding away smaller and smaller pieces of us.  It wore so much of us away that we started to look like a small pebble. 

I grew quite fond of the creatures in the river.  They swam and chased each other and their next meal all day long.  I even began to enjoy the feel of the water always surrounding me, but I missed the sun and the wind.  I hoped that I would not forget what it felt like to be basking in the warm sun.

Time passed…The river continued to flow and grind away more and more pieces of us until there was only me: a small grain of sand.  I rolled around for many years; so many that I couldn’t begin to count them. Then one day I noticed that the water was different.  It was salty and there were millions of other pieces of sand just like me!  But one thing about this water was the same: it kept moving and pushing. 

It pushed me so far that I finally saw the sun again.  I was out of the water!  I could feel the warm breeze and the ocean mist.  All around me were these happy people basking in the sun and splashing in the ocean from which I had just emerged.  As a little girl enjoyed the wet squishy feel of me between her toes, I thought about my long journey.  I don’t want to believe the other grains of sand when they tell me that one day I will again return to the darkness and this entire cycle will begin again!

The Silent Watch January 26, 2008

The Silent Watch 

We trek across the campus and head over to the bridge overlooking the resaca.  Our assignment seems pretty simple: write about nature. Out here, nature is hard to ignore.  It’s a cold dreary day and she slaps us in the face with her cold winds as soon as we leave the classroom.  Yet, regardless of the cold, we keep walking and looking and listening.  Around me I hear my classmates remarking on the several species of birds that have congregated on the broken limbs of what at one time must have been beautiful proud trees.  And that’s when it hits me.  This wasn’t always a resaca.  At some point this was probably a full and lush grove of trees.  They once claimed this space for themselves.  They lived here, providing a safe haven for countless generations of creatures.  Somehow over the course of time these trees became a casualty of the elements to which they were exposed.           

Slowly, they succumbed, one by one to the inevitable effects of being submerged in water.  The little copse of trees, that had managed to survive for years unattended, died.  Now only a few brave soldiers still stand tall and proud.  You can see them trying so hard to maintain their dignity as all around them life goes on.           

At first glance it’s easy to overlook them.  We tend to get so caught up on the hustle and bustle of the life we see all around them.  This bird or that one going about their daily life with the same nearsightedness from which we all suffer.  Each keeping to themselves, going about their day and following their own urgent agenda.          

It’s not so difficult to understand.  We are ourselves a reflection of the nature we came out here to study.  At one point or another all of us have been exposed to loss and grief.  Though we might think we’ll never survive such losses; we inevitably do.  As is in the human spirit, we survive and overcome and manage to live day to day in spite of it all.           

These once magnificent trees are a testament to the frailty and beauty of life.  They have struggled through many changes and managed to remain standing through many seasons.  And though they stand here before me; I know they are dying.  Life is no longer theirs to have.  They are destined to keep struggling everyday for that last shred of sunlight to touch their trunks before finally giving in to the murky water below.         

They have so much they would like to tell us.  But it’s hard to hear them over the squawking birds nearby.  It’s only when we stop and find some stillness that we can hear their tale.