Our True Calling?

The woods. There’s no place I’d rather be on an overcast day as the season attempts to ring winter’s bell. Thick clouds obscure the myriad of colors that live in the forest on bright days, leaving behind a black and white portrait of bark and branches.

Only on these days can we discover the true bones on which the flesh of the woods hangs. The trunks are the ironwork of nature’s skyscrapers; the branches, aerial highways along which life perches and scampers.

Left to its own accord, the forest knows no direction except that of opportunity. Sometimes a roundabout journey occurs, not by choice but necessity.

The forest elders tower over young saplings, both with the same motivation — to live and spread. We impose descriptions — a tree with beauty, perseverance or character — that live only in our minds and collective wisdom.

I wonder if our true calling — our uniqueness as humans — is to observe, describe and appreciate this world in a way that it can’t do for itself.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s