The Beauty of Nature

I walk out of my dorm and seek a place where I can gather my thoughts and altogether just unwind. Walking down the stairs I catch a glimpse of what seems to be a sturdy old bridge. Its simplicity welcomes me, and it didn’t take me long to know that’s the place I needed to be. Walking onto the bridge I feel as if I’ve entered another place completely. This bridge is surrounded with bright trees, calm animals, and peace. I close my eyes and let my ears do the seeing. I hear quiet chirps from the birds on the far lamppost, then the loud obnoxious sound of none other than crickets. I slowly open my eyes and look at the sky. At around 7 pm, it looks as if it’s almost night time but still morning. The suns nowhere to be found yet it’s mysteriously shinning. Astonished by my surroundings, I catch myself gazing at everything the bridge seems to have. The buildings that just barely peak over the scattering trees, the rusty lamps, the light blue sky sprinkled with fading clouds that move gracefully with every gust of wind. The wind fulfilling its multiple jobs with the trees, bushes and plants swaying back and forth; the light breeze I feel standing as I find myself mesmerized by the true beauty of nature.  As I’m looking around at everything surrounding me, I see a small withered plant near the edge of the bridge. Somehow intrigued, I make my way towards it. Almost immediately I find myself analyzing it, trying to figure out what lured me in so easily. It was nothing out of the ordinary, just another dying plant. Why did it seem so interesting a minute ago? Shaking my head I turn away and start to walk elsewhere, when my lingering thoughts and curiosity as to why I was somehow attracted to that plant came back. All I could tell from looking at the plant was that it was surrounded by bright green plants, all at the peak of their youth. The withering plant seemed like the mother, maybe even the grandmother of these newly sprouted plants. I turn around slowly as I come to the realization as to why the withering plant caught my attention. Aging. It was slowly giving up, letting Father Time take it to wherever he decides it needs to be. This dying plant somehow made me realize how time will still pass, whether you’re ready for it or not. To live knowing that someday, when you’re old, you’ll look back at the memories you’re making now. It made me question my goals, my aspirations, my way of living. This one plant, made me open my eyes as to what I’m doing in life, what I want to do. Taking in my new outlook of life, I slowly walk back towards my dorm and get a cup of water. I bring it outside and carefully pour it into the roots of the withering plant, in hopes that maybe it could survive just another day.