April

Standing there, on the rocks that are older than time, looking at the lake, feeling the power. It brings me up short, making me feel small and unimportant, as it brings me up tall, reminding me that I am a part of it, a very, very important part. If I were not there seeing it, revelling in it, would it even exist? If not for you, would it be there?

The smell of spring, the snow melting, the Earth wet and eager (yeah, I just said wet and eager), waiting to be touched, discovered, loved. It talks, if you know how to listen, the Earth sings. She cries sometimes, but mostly she sings, beautiful songs full of life. All the lives there that we don't know of, the ones we overlook as "unimportant"- the birds, the bugs, the trees, the organisms invisible to us, springing to life once again as little creeks fill and mini pools run over.

How many have been here before? How many feet have touched the earth? Ears heard the song? Trees caressed by the breeze? It can't be captured, it can't be kept, it can't be told. Like a secret, we all run to the lake, run to nature, to find ourselves again. Go somewhere that perfect harmony still exists, without us "helping" it. It knows what to do, how to do it, and it does so. It's our little glimpse of heaven, to give us hope and remind us of what is possible if we'll leave well enough alone.