My Life For My Forest

         Today I saw a pond full of herons off of Silverbell near Joslyn. Their long legs suspended their perfect white bodies among a liquid mirror. It's been years since I've seen so many in one place, so many years since I've seen the wetlands so alive. I live by a dying swamp that is constantly clogged with trash and fertilizer run-off. Most of the turtles and frogs are dead and gone and the birds don't sing outside my window anymore. It broke my heart to see my neighbors and friends kill my childhood playground. I feel such a deep connection with the trees and moss here, I feel so at peace when I lay myself down to the cold grip of the rocks and roots and sometimes... I sit... and cry. I cry for my trees; because I know they'll be dead soon. I cry for my cattails; because I know they'll be gone. I cry for my turtles; because I know they'll have no home. But today I saw the herons cry for me. They all stood in the pond as I walked past but when I froze to watch them....they froze to watch me. In their eyes I saw warmth and wisdom. I saw what they had to teach and what they had to offer. I walked on and into the green behind me but the image of the enclave of white birds still sticks in my mind. I could tell they knew what I knew, knew what I felt for my forest.

        When I came back from my walk they were still there, so I approached the edge of the pool of water and sat. They didn't flee as I expected them to, they gave me passing glances as they harpooned their prey. I sat there for about 40 minutes, the road to my back. I enjoyed the silence I spent with them sans the occasional passing car. I was tempted to speak to them, to see if some how they would respond but I held my tongue for I didn't wish to scare my company. Then a car drove past with the window open and the passenger yelled "Faggot". At this, my herons scattered into the sky. My heart sank as they rose away. Why is it so necessary to yell at someone who is just enjoying his surroundings? Why do I always get ridiculed and eye suspiciously for traveling through the woods at my leisure? Why do people find it so weird that someone might actually enjoy the subtle beauty of nature?

     I don't know what provoked me to post this particular walk but I found that maybe some of you might find something deeper in it, food for thought. I'll leave you with this "How many trees..."

 

I'm Jerrod Preston

and I've Left You