Natural Material

ROUGH DRAF'
There is a noteworthy relationship between individual people and their surroundings. Some like to use the word "nature" in the same way they use the term "earth tones," which is wildly incorrect in its general context. If you look at the actual tones of the earth, you find a myriad of colors, shades, textures, and volumes. I like to consider hot pink and lime green "earth tones," because they are found relatively often, and just as important to the scheme of the planet. If the earth were covered in dirt and seen from outer space as an orbital ball of mud, I'd most likely shift my direction to a new planet with more self-motivation.
Nature. This word is powerful, and yet seems to carry irritatingly false angles, thanks to the commonly used definition most people have come to stand by. When someone says this word, images of trees and birds and so on come to mind automatically. However, I feel that that it has a much more surprisingly flavorful gusto behind it. Nature is life, and all things are living, whether outwardly conscious or not. A tree is never dead. A metal knife is pulsing with intention and energy. To get "back in tune with nature" as people say, typically means to surround oneself with plants, go on long quiet walks through preserved parks and forests, meditate on large rocks, and take deep relaxing inhalations while overlooking large valleys. All of this sounds lovely, and I partake in these things from time to time myself. But what I'm concerned about is the lack of approval the alternate side of life gets. Why does the city have such a bad reputation? I can't help but notice that the people who send the most verbally abusive hate mail to the automotive industry are the same people asking for rides from their friends with cars.
Nature truly is all around, and I enjoy finding it hidden within the less obvious. Falling for a city structure like a bridge or building that has just the right curves in just the right places, or feeling my heart race at the natural terror brought upon by a New York taxi driver both reveal a certain sweetness. And dancing. I find nothing more natural than the sensation of hearing something that causes my body to flinch in a structurally chaotic rhythm.
I am stunned by the wild variations of nature, over and over again. The best parts are found roughly through the combination of what we refer to as nature on a regular basis, and what is seen by the ignorant as the decay of a rich planet, or in short, urban culture. I love seeing a birds nest resting in the corner of an old stone building, or the intricate display of a spider’s web spread over a gap between a cars door and rear view mirror.
While walking through the forest one day, I came upon a very charming wooden bridge, thinking it would be the perfect spot to sit and rest while observing the functions of the world in a logical display. I saw a frog, raccoon and duck prints embedded in the sandy mud, a variety of bugs and small crawling creatures, and plenty of trees and thin branching plants. I also saw various cans, different brands of cigarette butts, and heard a small plane overhead and a train nearby. Perhaps I am strange for being content with these sounds and sights. So much strain is released on a single bottle lying face down in a muddy bank, but we seldom give a seconds reserve for an unseen landfill somewhere in the unknown, a dingy location separate from “Earth,” because we don’t have to walk past it or suffer from its existence, thanks to our comfortable location. I accept the fact that another human had been there, on the bridge, exactly where I sat. To search for a place untouched and remote is futile. A devastatingly romantic search, but simply impossible to obtain. If you find such a place, and then to your horror discover that you are in fact standing in the place you’ve found, you've suddenly spoiled it even for yourself. If somehow you can find natural contentment in walking through a creatively corroded suburb just as much as a solemn brook, you've discovered the secret of peace.
Sometimes this can be more of a challenge, especially when dealing with horrid terrain like track homes or large warehouse stores emitting that horrible yellow light from the ceiling. But, as we use our skills to differentiate what is beautiful from what is not, we are then blessed with choice. Finding truth in things is to see the natural capacity it has. Some things have very little, but really, that depends on how it influences an individual. Someone may find large halogen light bulbs beautiful. I don’t. We are then different, and the world remains interesting.
I have found that everything really is perfect to some noticeable degree, because nothing is below divine. Everything is exactly what it needs to be in that moment, because if it's happening, if it has happened, if it's ready to spring forth and become, then it is so obviously meant to be. It's exciting when you think about it, really. Camping and hiking can be wonderful adventures, often tickling the inspiration of those who may have thought themselves more city-oriented. There is a fascinating process to realizations such as these, in places that subject someone to things they never thought to relate themselves to. The same note goes for the outdoorsmen, or at least the extremists, believing that beauty can only be found in purple mountains majesty. Thoreau finds reason to dispute with those who sit inside for long periods of time. I however, find this to be just the right dose of absolute joy on some days. Beauty is in places where it may be difficult to see to the commonly trained eye. Many things are disrupted within the Earth’s balanced state, and that truly is shameful. Hopefully this is something our race learns to correct at an early age. We are, after all, still quite young, like toddlers playing with a glass bowl and not realizing its delicacy. Thankfully, none of the shards go very far and they have a unique ability to restore as a unit once placed in the proper order. Nothing is taken from the planet, only scrambled. Everything is still here, and that is the ultimate good news. Beauty is all around, just like the earth intended it to be.
Never expect anything. Contentment is found in the mystery, not in the answer. The soft, midnight light of a subway station and the smell of early morning dew on wildflowers are equal in their magical ability to transfix, inspire, share, and bewilder. Getting lost is the first step. Nature will certainly be happy to guide the way.