Nature. We hardly pay attention to it, yet it’s still there, relentlessly, unapologetically beautiful and blazing and bright.
I think nature as a concept is very attractive to a lot of people. We like the pretty flowers, the idea of wide open green fields or groves of tall fir trees, dappled deer peeping shyly out from behind the moss-covered trunks. Rose petals, birdsong, softness, music. All associated with the idea of nature. The word itself is immediately evocative of whimsical little tableus worthy of any tumblr user’s blog.
But, in loving the idealistic version of nature, we dye it with our own expectations and when it doesn’t live up to our idea of this perfect dream fantasy world, we stop appreciating it and look for another spot that does live up to our fantasies.
But nature is more than that. Nature is more than moss and flowers and idyll and butterflies. Nature is soil. Nature is warmth. Nature is the smell of humidity in our nostrils when we breathe in on a particularly warm summer night. Nature is the gentle breeze, but it is also the hurricane. Nature is gentle, foaming waves breaking on the shore, but it is also the tsunami.
Nature is venomous snakes, blind mole rats, funnel-web spiders and gulper eels. Nature is all the animals we glossed over in school because they were too ugly to hold our interest for long.
How captivated we can be by beauty, and yet, how blind we can become to all of its facets when we only focus on one.