Nature’s Beauty


A meadow shows just how beautiful nature truly is Photo source: Pinterest (Cidinha Meneghel)

The sun’s light and warm glow beamed down upon my face. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I witnessed the bright beams fade to small patterns dancing in the darkness of my eyelids. The air smelled of fresh grass, and the breeze, a scent of lavender and roses. I glided through the meadow surrounded by silence, with the exception of the buzzing of birds and bees. It’s funny how nature works. Winter brings nothing but cold and darkness. Its chilling hands grasp at nature’s beauty, forcing it to run and hide. It covers the earth with its shade of white and creates its own form of forced beauty. Silence. I much preferred the buzzing of birds and bees. Its muffled sounds remind one that they are not alone. I never liked being alone. Like nature’s beauty, I had my own form of winter force me into isolation. 

I continued my walk through the meadow. I found an immense tree, and leaned my back against it, sliding down until I gently hit the ground. I untied my bonnet, setting it down on the soft dirt beside me. I stretched out my legs, watching the hem of my dress slide up above my ankles. If my mother saw, she would have a heart attack. She was always thinking about these types of things. I guess it was because her mother had done the same to her. I never understood the need for attention to such miniscule details. As I contemplated my mother, I heard the meek chirping of a bird. I stood up to find a baby bird sitting alone in a nest. Remnants of its mother remained, but the appearance was absent. There were no siblings either. I couldn’t help but weep for the poor creature. How lonely it must feel. Then I had an idea.

“Never stir where it is not your place.”

My mother’s words echoed in my head, but this bird was in need of assistance, of freedom. I was determined to give it such. I climbed to the limb where the nest sat. I talked to the bird. It felt ridiculous. If anyone had walked past, I was sure to be frowned upon. I did not care. I continued to talk to the bird. 

“You must fly. You will feel free, happy. Go. Go!”

The baby bird flapped its wings, preparing to take off. I watched as it stood up, blinking its eyes and slightly tilting its head. Then, its wings flapped once more, and I watched as the baby bird flew. Its flight was bumpy, but nonetheless, it was a flight. How I loved nature’s beauty. I watched the bird fly towards the sun, and I felt a tear stream down my cheek. I climbed down and continued my walk.