Mike Arnold

Walking in the woods

The world fell silent behind me, all the chatter, all that senseless, useless and meaningless hunting for things one does not need stayed behind and my eyes were greeted with a lush green that made my heart sing. My footsteps were muffled by the many little things that cover the fertile ground, strewn there by wind and chance, apt to nurture and to overcome, a good soil! Thoughts of loved ones mingled with me while I strode: Had I treated them badly? Had I hurt them unknowing of their pain? Had I done everything in my powers to elevate them, care for them, teach them, hold them? These ruminations were common for me, as I cared much for everyone around me. Once, I cursed this sensation of loving care for its harshness, but only did this out of sorrow, for I had allowed to not see the true meaning of life: To care for yourself and those you love and by doing so, finding happiness.

Trees always spoke to me. When I fled the cruelness of my classmates, who chased me, hit me, derided me, sang me bad songs, I always went to them. Weeping, I told them about my many tribulations and found solace in their shadows. Grandfather Julius had always taken me into the woods. He never judged me, never scolded me, he only held my hand and let me play my little games, always smiling, always willing to tell me a story. 

This, I thought, is the true home of mankind. We, as one entity, one body, had chosen to separate ourselves from nature, from our kinship, from our true aspirations. Building had always been in our souls, caring was one of our most precious virtues and thus we had been elevated into the ranks of conscious gods, able to sustain life and even create it. The birds chirped their little songs, while I came to a clearing that was inhabited by all kinds of flying colours. Fluttering, going here and there, picking up, letting go, eat, be eaten, all in balance with another, 


This balance was what I  always sought here as it was submerged in our world. It dwelled underneath our many fruitless desires, our petty quarrels and shone brightly when we were no longer bound by actions and ideas that were not adding to our faculties and when we turned our heart towards somebody else. Love was not only a feeling, I remembered, but our prime prerequisite to be the positive force we were designed to be.

Love could be the one thing that would save this planet. If we could only allow ourselves to love these trees surrounding me more than our cold and inane technology. The bliss of a hug in the hallway, the sensation of looking into somebody’s eyes and seeing only adoration could never be replaced by dwellings or possession. High above my clouded mind, there was a bird of prey. His eyes keen on the ground, willing to strike, but beautiful in his own splendour. A creature of these woods, put here to keep the balance as we were put here as well.


With a sigh, I turned around and walked back whence I came, my heart filled with hope, as I knew that young inventors, benefactors, care-takers, souring with hope, with strength and the will to bring upon the change that was needed to love these trees more than our cold and inane technology, were out there. I knew that the love I felt for everything that lived and for the one woman, who is my guidance, the fair maiden of the river-city, was not a fluke, but our future, the future of mankind.
Thus, I smiled and said farewell once more to the woods and the walking in it. I would return tomorrow, a tomorrow that would be as great a day as today had been.


Todos los derechos pertenecen a su autor. Ha sido publicado en e-Stories.org a solicitud de Mike Arnold.
Publicado en e-Stories.org el 27.03.2023.


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