Today, I am thankful for nature.
I lived in the country almost my entire life, minus about a total of four years. Some of that time, I was only a baby and do not remember. I lived on my own for a year and now I live with my husband in the big, sprawling city. I have no complaints about my life so far, save the fact that I cannot enjoy nature they way I could when I did not live in the city.
Nature is this big, glorious thing. It’s filled with magick and mystery and wonder. In the morning, there is dew on the grass, which you mowed the day before. There are gravel roads which stretch on for miles, sometimes the dust kicks up when you drive too fast, or the weather has been too dry. Trees line the roads, like they did in old fairytale stories. The lazy days of summer can be handled with a little time in the creek. In the spring and fall, thunderstorms bring mudrunnin and dancig in the rain.
In the spring, your world blossoms with green and white and pink, little shoots of crops tilting their head towards the sun. By the summer, whole fields of food are alive, catching the unforgiving warmth of the sun, the blissful cool of the rains. In fall, harvest begins and with it, the chance to see hay bales, mazes and hayrides. You’re greeted each day by the magnificent art that crosses your eye at every glance. And just when you think life can be no more beautiful, the first snowflakes dance lazily across your face.
Little cottonballs litter the browning ground, a little more each day. Sometimes the temperature warms and they disappear. Sometimes the temperature drops and you are left with little sheets of ice. But on those most special occasions, you awake to find you have inherited acres worth of diamonds. Your coffee feels a little happier, blankets a little warmer and your heart bursts at the prospects of getting outside to make snow angels.
The thing is, that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Nature is more than just seasons and weather patterns. It’s the coraking of bullfrogs late summer evenings. It’s the migration of butterflies in fall, along with the geese returning in spring. It’s each individual organism being alive and being recognized as sentient, beautiful creatures living in the same space we are. You can’t help but feel small and large all at the same time. And that’s why I’m thankful for nature.