As a traveler, I often seek solace and sanctuary within nature’s elements. I find myself meandering wherever my worn hiking boots take me, marching alongside glimmering streams, rolling hills, and perilous chasms. I feel as though I shed my material burdens and melt into mother nature’s warm embrace. My mind wanders far and wide, my steps navigate the terrain, and with each inhale, I abandon my tension at the mercy of the soil beneath my feet. Now I am under the jurisdiction of the environment where the laws of nature prevail; its teachings are profound as any scripture, for it has existed for millennia and will endure long after my bones return to the earth.
After the next exhale, my mind returns from its vacation up in the clouds and I examine the winding trail in front. Though I have conquered the most treacherous corners of the world, I cannot help but feel unnerved at the dense forest beyond. The monolithic trees may as well scrape the sky, and their mahogany-colored trunks tell stories far older than my lineage. Their branches obscure the heavens and are poised as if prepared to take any unsuspecting victim hostage in their gnarled grasp. A gust rustles the leaves, the sound akin to a thousand whispering voices chanting an eerie hymn. I take a tentative step forward and a chill races down my spine. I glance down to find an old, withered trunk littered with burn marks blocking my route. Similar scars blemish the forest floor, and I recall that a particularly ferocious wildfire ripped through the area a few months prior. Yet, my gaze is attracted to the wildflowers growing out of the felled trunk, their vibrancy a testament to the force of persistence it took to flourish out of such peril.
Eventually, I venture onward into the depths of the woods. I am drawn to a path wandering off the anticipated route, where the trees merge into a nearly impenetrable wall and the shadows seem to dance as if entranced in a ritual. My eyes dart to any sound that threatens to break the eerie silence and my teeth chatter in the frigid air. A plume of my breath appears with every exhale, adding to the light fog blanketing the forest floor. I trek further into the wooded void with clenched fists, unable to shake the constricting unease that settled around my neck. The imposing vegetation obstructs the last of the sun’s gaze and the creaking branches transform into a malicious symphony. Yet, concealed in these waltzing shadows, among gnarled roots, I spot a small fern emitting light. In awe, I crouch down and absentmindedly take the bioluminescent stem between my fingers; these plants have conquered life’s misfortune and thrived amidst the odds of sunlight deprivation and resource competition.
The moment is cut short, however, when the sound of a snapped twig and scuttling in the underbrush echoes from the abyss of trees. I am on my feet in seconds as I whirl towards the perpetrator, only to find the splintered twig. I exhale a sigh of relief and my hand eases away from my pocketknife. Though in my peripheral, a movement catches my eye, and I shift to find a monarch butterfly caught in the clutches of a spider’s web. Though my heart is still pumping from the previous encounter and every nerve in my body is screeching for flight, I ignore my instincts and shakily press on towards the butterfly.
I suppose it is due to that childish, nostalgia-warped memory that I am overcome with empathy to save the pitiful thing. I had been but a young child gazing upon my mother as she cradled a butterfly in her palm.
“Is it hurt?” I inquired, facing the fragile creature whose misshapen wings had still allowed it to soar amidst the clouds.
“No….” She paused, struggling for the right words. “Rather, it endures despite its disadvantage. In spite of life’s hardship, we too must prevail.”
I admittedly did not understand a word of her advice back then, but now as I observe the liberated butterfly vanish from the emerald foliage and into freedom’s embrace, I think back to those wildflowers and luminous flora. Pondering such intricacies, I embark on my journey from the forest and let the breeze take away my worldly, mortal worries to a faraway land.
Author’s Note:
This piece is one of my earlier fictional works, but it inspired me to pursue creative writing. I find much of my influence from nature, and I wanted this piece to show my gratitude towards the Earth and nature’s quiet dedication to endure adversity.
Addison Balthazor | 17 | United States of America
