Effervescence in the Language of Trees | Teen Ink

Effervescence in the Language of Trees

October 25, 2022
By syruskf SILVER, San Marcos, California
syruskf SILVER, San Marcos, California
6 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"It's only time, it won't age like wine<br /> But it's mine and I'll take the blow"


The white blanket with the purple leaves, the wind rustling through my hair as it kept falling into my face. The softness of the blanket on my blue jeans, comforting me as the cool breeze ran through my brown hair, causing it to keep falling in my face. I raise my head from the ground, triumphant as an act could be, to allow my retinas to take in, grasp, and translate the language of the trees. The frailness to their trunks seems almost comic to me, the veins of their evergreen leaves glistening, full of water from the rainstorm the night before. The remnants of the storm overhead, swirling and moving into an endless spiral, the clouds acting like a canvas in the sky. The color of balance engulfing my eyes as I tilt my head 180° up. However, as this greyness engulfed my eyes, I realized that something was missing. Something made the color of balance dull. The color of balance was missing color. At just the right tilt of my head, the life of the leaves stood out against this dullness, providing evidence that life continued and persisted even in the most feeble of moments. This flow of nature was interrupted as my eyes struck the concrete of the school-building. A vast hunk of concrete blocked the mountains, disrupting the everlasting flow of nature. But as I started to think about it, this immense concrete building, with all its black trash cans, tables, and benches, wasn’t disrupting the flow of nature, it was encouraging it. It beckoned others to take part in the flow, to observe the flow, and to find beauty in the flow, in some form or another. It was in this flow where I felt the grass prick my ankle with the wind in my face as I sat crisscrossed on that white blanket with the purple leaves. It was there as nature continued on, the crows cawing and the people talking. It was there the band played for the crows as they cawed back, demonstrating the interconnectedness of nature. On that white blanket with the purple leaves, my mouth tingled and teemed as the cotton of my mask and the saliva of my mouth intertwined, allowing me to realize I was not separate from this flow, but part of it.


The author's comments:

October


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