Cropping season
It's been a bad season for crops, they say.
When you spend half a decade accustomed to the mines you’ve naively conformed to, you forget. You forget to know by heart how many different shades are in a 30-minute sunset; the melodic hymn of the tree branches wildly swaying with wind threatening to break without really collapsing; the feeling of a bed of grass tickling your steams to push you outward from its surface just to propel you to grow; the strong scent of minty coloured foliage as you brush it against your nose and remember what home is.
Sometimes… The rain comes a little too strong and temporarily impinges your strength by fracturing your leaves. Seasons make your petals fall and force you to be inevitably naked, unwillingly crowded by unknown species. The wildfires strike your anatomy and its heat makes you crawl back to your underground roots.
You look to the side. So many flowers. Such long roots they have. You look at your reflection on the rocky abyss. And find yourself withering. So you forget. You forget that you need compost to compose. The same shovel that contributes to your planting has the potential to tear your roots to the core. You know that. So you pray for a shielding board to collapse on top of your potentially homely lawn. Big mistake. What protects intrusion also impedes you to come out of the shade.
Luckily in life, we meet a fair share of great people that, after freehandedly blowing away that hardboard, unconsciously feed drops of water to a pile of dirt with an entire garden planted underneath. At last, the sun strikes upon you. The green tip of your sprout peeks at the world outside.
Isn’t nature a beautiful thing?
This piece was originally written on August 14th, 2020.
