"Go as far as you can see; when you get there you'll be able to see farther." ~ Thomas Carlyle
It’s a chemical thing. Endorphin-pumping experiences are irresistible. A dearth for an extended period can be damaging. Some run, some dance, some find their fun in taking chances. How long can we go without before we are no longer ourselves?
Unfortunately, if you are relying on nature to provide a sublime sunrise or sunset, the soft caress of a gentle sun-warmed breeze or to show you one of her wild children to get your endorphin fix, you may suffer for it. Nature has her own plans, or more truthfully, her own ways of looking after herself. Humans, with our self-indulgent tendency to emotional reactions are only a small part of her priorities.
Who knows why she sent a harsh and humid easterly to cover my world for nearly two weeks. She has denied us the sun so much this winter, but she has pulled a white quilt over her sensitive offspring that protects them and will provide them with ample water when they wake: snow, for which she designed the Canada Lynx and the Snowshoe Hare.
Then she sent five long days of heavy fog that coated the world and tested the trees, pruning the weakest branches to allow the strongest to thrive.
A chickadee came and assured me that Nature knows what she is doing. She is a hard mother. Only the fittest survive in her family. She does everything for a reason.
It would be nice to think that she cleared the sky yesterday and allowed the sun to bathe the earth just to give me an uplifting dose of endorphins, but I know I am insignificant. I am reassured. That is as it should be.
She was just ending her test, relieving the boughs of their burden and bestowing a kiss of congratulations on the survivors. I just got in line. She brought one day of spring and made it rain snow from the trees. I stood and listened. The sound washed my soul.