I remember walking a Nature Center trail through suburban woods until we stumble upon a sudden opening, where the brilliant sun shines down on a clearing of wildflowers. It takes my breath away. This is a painter's dream, a vivid palette of light and color. This is the scene of a Victorian romance, where lovers picnic or tumble around in an endless tryst. This is a place where time stops, and I am overcome with the sudden urge to run in the middle of it all, immersing myself in flowers and sunshine. Then I remember chiggers and ticks and all the other nasty things that might be crawling in that tall grass. So I enjoy from afar, and stay on the trail that takes me safely back to the car.
Nature, in all its beauty, is something we'd rather not experience first-hand, lest the snakes bite us in the grass. It is something we want to bottle up and take home with us, to admire on the shelf at our convenience.
- wit -
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