The air is still and freezing. Not in a way that I’m used to, but a new and hollow chill. My thoughts drift as I look around. This can’t be the place I used to visit. The breeze has gone to dance somewhere else. The woods seems to sleep instead of wrapping around me like it did before. The trees stand strong and bold. The pine needles spike out in a gorgeous green, yet the woods feels empty, dead almost. Perhaps it’s only waiting peacefully, patiently, silently, still. I wait as well, but in reality, my patience will soon fade. In reality, I don’t even know what I’m waiting for. In reality, I’m freezing, and want to go inside. Why? What have the artificial lights done? What is it that beckons me, trapping me inside these solid cement walls? Why do I long to be closed in, staring at a screen, with fake heat blasting towards me, blocked off by rock solid walls, as the woods sits and waits.
Wake up, forest! Show your love and forgiveness. Your trees are capable of so much more than all the bleached white, crisp, and wasted paper we hack them down for. You give us comfort and belonging beyond compare, and yet we destroy you to try and escape your conditions. Not only you, but humans ourselves need to wake up. Do we realize what we’re doing? Do we realize that the forest can be every single thing we’ve searched for, if we only learn to be patient?