As I turn from the beauty of the world and the future, I gaze
forward and look in horror as I stare into the eyes of death
As the Jeep rolls
to a stop on the banks of a river I step out of the jeep, with my father and
feel the soft sand give way under the heels of my boots. I stand in awe of the
beauty that my eyes behold. Lush green pine trees stand tall reaching into the
heavens, where only the feathered creatures dare to tread. I look to my left
and see a battle that has been taking place since the dawn of time, as water chisels
and beats away at the bare rock; however, the rock is not easily overcome. It pushes back causing the water to turn in frustration
and foaming at its mouth, snarling, it continues. I then follow the battle up
the shoreline as it progress to where I see the water cascading over the weathered
face of the mountain. The thunder is deafening as the frigid water plunges over
the stone walls falling evermore until it crashes down onto the grief stricken
pebbled floor of the river bead. The ground quakes as the water surges and
charges forward crashing into yet another stone sentinel. He will not yield for
he has been here for generations and will not give away his home so easy. His
body shivers and moans as the waves crash over his shoulders. As the sand gives
way his body falls backward and crashes into his fellow comrades knocking off
pieces of his armor. He reaches and grasps for air and reaches with the last of
his energy to the sky as if he was reaching for a friend. I just stare as his
body falls below the waves, never to be seen again. The water is not yielding
as it presses onward into the horizon.
After watching the river for some time and
eating our lunches my father and I climb into the jeep and press further up the
country side. Still hearing the river in the background my father brings the
jeep to a screeching halt. My father beckons me to turn his direction and look
towards the forest; as I do I see a
small fawn and its mother resting just outside the timberline. I stare as I see their figures rise off the
bead of prairie grass; legs slender and toned, bodies lean and fluid, and ears
standing at attention. Fearing that I might miss something, I grasp my
binoculars and raise them to my eyes. It is said that the eyes are the gateway
to the soul , so as I peer down the lenses I make eye contact with the mother
and gaze into the very fabric of her soul. I do not see fear and animosity, but
love and compassion. This surprised me so much that I continued to watch for
what felt like years. I then turned to the child and observed as it danced
threw the meadow with such bliss. How I wish I could be like the fawn in the
forest not having a care or a fear in the world. They slowly turn from us and
fade back into their home of the forest. As the dear continue home se continue
on our adventure
As we travel some
distance down the road I turn in my seat to gaze towards the meadow to
hopefully rest my eyes on the peaceful fawn and doe one last time; or perhaps,
catch a glimpse of the mighty river. I start to notice the trees growing
thinner and smaller the further we delve into the back-country. And as I turn
from the beauty of the world and the future, I gaze forward and look in horror
as I stare into the eyes of death. A body lies across the hill side. No flesh,
just bleached bones scattered over the rubble that was humanity. Feeling
beckoned I walk towards the remains of the mine. I stretch out my hand and touch the cold
steal of old doors. I begin to push them open as rust flies, the groaning
hinges the latch gives way and the doors slide open laying bear the heart of
the compound. Light fell into the space
that had been vacant for so long, casting shadows on the existence that once
dwelled in this place. The walls of the tomb stand bleak and empty with little
remains of the life that used to cling to them. Belts and pulleys scatted over
the concrete. A desk was propped up against the wall bearing a little prospect
I marched on climbing the collapsed stairs, alone.
I reached the
second level in a room whose roof and walls had disappeared. There were no
remnants of the room at all, no splinters, no fragment of timber nothing. It
was as if someone or something had lifted the whole thing and carried it to
another dimension. There was plenty of
destruction lying around the platform of rock and dirt, but no room. These led
me to question and speculate as to the destruction of this place and the
downfall of the men who operated this place. I looked further up the mountain
and saw the compound stretched for many for floors like a decrepit staircase to
a false heaven of wealth and prosperity that was the dream of businessmen.
Seeking answers, I pressed on and climbed the blown out walls and sunken floors
I reached the
pinnacle of the complex and stood on top of what I thought was a structure for
holding water, as I stare at the sun falling towards the horizon I felt transported
to a plane where life had not existed for several millennia; a place of sublime
and higher thinking. My brain began to
fill with a rush of knowledge and new sense of understanding. Feeling
overwhelmed I fell to my knees and sat there in a trance-like state and
meditated on my new found knowledge. For no matter what we do as man, whether
it is moving mountains, controlling the elements, taming the sea, or carving
out an existence in this inhospitable planet. When we are gone, nature will
always prevail. No more will we rape the fruits of her soil and the produce of
her loin. Crashing hammers give way to rushing water. Moving pistons get pushed
away scaling roots. Steam will be blown
away by the winds of change. Steal will
rust as life springs from the ashes. The Phoenix that is life will always find
a way to be born again.
