take the trees

ik theres a place and a time to write a couple of ongoing paragraphs about a squirrel and the wind that probably just wants to be left alone, BUT despite all of the reasons not to today im choosing to act on impulse so take this as u will. i promise its not too too pretentious... maybe... and yk what maybe u will now have en excuse to rebel a little too. and not take ur own encounter with a squirrel for granted? thats rlly pretentious okay here we go

on November 6th, I went on a run and sat down under some trees. I sat there in silence. the natural world around me takes me in. (it’s invitation goes unnoticed.) no reservations needed. an undercurrent of pulse holds me. usually the waiters would ask what i want but i dont have a clue. but ik theres smth that i need. so i stay. everything remains seemingly still.

 the momentum of inhale and exhale around me tickles my spine. chills arise as i am reawakened to the life that is holding me. to the unwitnessed exchange going on in this very moment. to the tempo of the silence. to the way the wind entertains itself as it plays with my hair. i remember my forgetfulness shamefully. i get too close to giving in to the eyes. these illuminating chills soon fall, following my gaze. 

a squirrel. shocked into unmistakable stillness freezes under the chill of my wandering eyes. we watch each other, as im almost certain this has to be our first meeting. its only a couple of seconds before the wind dispels the6 unearthed stillness. i witness fur run back and forth like a ticking clock. my hair sways along. we stare, waiting. tick tock. who will make the first move? what is to become of this encounter? questions i typically ask myself under different circumstance…we watch each other in playful banter before the moment soon leaves us both. the shared moment has run off and become another. off with the squirrel it went! the weirdly magical thing that just happened between us is over. 

my hair is still swaying. 

 i remember thinking to myself

just because something isn't waving its arms around making a show of itself doesn't mean it's not alive. take the trees for example. they plant themselves deeply still, occasionally swaying their branches at the bypassers. they have enough life to sustain life. they hold the power to end entire species. yet, they allow themselves to be made a home of. they give undyingly and effortlessly. they hold footprints of infants, and the residue of crawling mothers. they are hung up and torn down with so much life to spare that theirs becomes reinvisioned. life is living, even if no proof of it is found. for with their endless silence they are quiet givers. and quite alive.

it only takes a moment before i go back to believing the world is still.