Leaves of Grass
Writing is often about inspiration, moments when words fall on the page in a way that seems perfect, like no other arrangement is could better describe a feeling, or thought. I think mostly this is about setting, and I recently found the perfect place to write and be inspired: A little greenhouse, nestled on the border of a forest and field. It's filled with hundred of plants, insects, and the hundreds of odds and ends that go into keeping diverse gardens lush. My favorite part: the dirt that coats nearly every flat surface. I like it dirty.
Sounds pretty distracting right? Well it is. When I wrote this, I spent more time looking at the living creatures around me than putting ink to paper, but I fully expect to find inspiration in the air these plants produce for me. Maybe too inspiration is carried on the water logged wings of the crane fly I rescued from certain doom in a puddle, who is presently still struggling for life, but will likely be eaten by the baby black snake who just slithered across the cold, dirty brick beneath my feet.
I've always thought it funny when people freak out over tiny insects, which pose them no threat and are maybe 1/1,000,000th their body mass. Maybe those people are trying to be endearing, or it is some deeply ingrained survival mechanism that they genetically can't escape and has kept us safe from potential threats, but it's still no place for fear. I can only imagine what they would say if they saw me put a jumping spider on the tip of my finger and hold it up to my face, looking eye to eyes (luckily one has never hopped onto my face, because that might be enough to make me scream like a girl and slap myself in the face a few times.)
You have to wonder if this is one of the signs of our unbalanced relationship with nature. I've been fortunate to have been out in the wilderness, if you will, many times and have grown a fond attachment to trees and other living things. After all, aren't they going through the same struggles to live and eat that we are, if not quite so complex? All of us together, out here on the rim of the Galaxy, resisting entropy best we can.
I can see myself living in a greenhouse one day, surrounded by the plants that feed me in one of natures oldest commenalistic relationships. My own little terrarium. I could do without the baby snake and the spider, who just spared a horse flies life, but it is definitely an uplifting, fresh environment to be in. Just so you know I didn't spare the horse fly, who has to be one of the biggest assholes of the insect world. Go out and find a plant friend, and remember you need them, but they don't need you!
Sounds pretty distracting right? Well it is. When I wrote this, I spent more time looking at the living creatures around me than putting ink to paper, but I fully expect to find inspiration in the air these plants produce for me. Maybe too inspiration is carried on the water logged wings of the crane fly I rescued from certain doom in a puddle, who is presently still struggling for life, but will likely be eaten by the baby black snake who just slithered across the cold, dirty brick beneath my feet.
I've always thought it funny when people freak out over tiny insects, which pose them no threat and are maybe 1/1,000,000th their body mass. Maybe those people are trying to be endearing, or it is some deeply ingrained survival mechanism that they genetically can't escape and has kept us safe from potential threats, but it's still no place for fear. I can only imagine what they would say if they saw me put a jumping spider on the tip of my finger and hold it up to my face, looking eye to eyes (luckily one has never hopped onto my face, because that might be enough to make me scream like a girl and slap myself in the face a few times.)
You have to wonder if this is one of the signs of our unbalanced relationship with nature. I've been fortunate to have been out in the wilderness, if you will, many times and have grown a fond attachment to trees and other living things. After all, aren't they going through the same struggles to live and eat that we are, if not quite so complex? All of us together, out here on the rim of the Galaxy, resisting entropy best we can.
I can see myself living in a greenhouse one day, surrounded by the plants that feed me in one of natures oldest commenalistic relationships. My own little terrarium. I could do without the baby snake and the spider, who just spared a horse flies life, but it is definitely an uplifting, fresh environment to be in. Just so you know I didn't spare the horse fly, who has to be one of the biggest assholes of the insect world. Go out and find a plant friend, and remember you need them, but they don't need you!
Comments
Post a Comment