Beauty in Little Things

It’s like a connect the dots pattern. A book that I would buy when I was a young child, unaware of conflicts outside of my crayons breaking. Each star shines brighter than the last, some emitting a dazzling hue of colours you can’t find anywhere else. I look down at my drawing and realize that no human could ever capture the true beauty of the stars; but that doesn’t mean I won’t try. The world is silent, the occasional sound of a frog or cricket ringing in my ears as they break the quiet. At some point I decide to follow each chirp that a cricket makes. Step; listen; step; listen. I see him. A brilliant gold-green cricket, singing his own song in a melody so sweet. One more step and I could sit and listen for hours. I take the last step and suddenly the world lights up. Brighter than the stars above me, more beautiful than any song. A million fireflies light up the world around me as though inviting me to listen to their songs. The fireflies remind me of an auditorium of fans, surrounding their idol. I sit on the cool grass, laying back and closing my eyes. I listen to the cricket sing and see the fireflies lights flashing behind my eyelids. Once I lay still long enough, the song slowly fades and the lights dim, as though singing me to sleep. I open my eyes hazily and am met once again with the stars above me. Now all that I see is fireflies in the night sky, disguised as stars to anyone who sees them. I sense the fireflies and cricket waiting for me to make a move, but once I close my eyes again and ready myself to fall asleep, the tension breaks and I drift soundly into a peaceful sleep, dreaming of fireflies in the night sky. 

Once I wake, the stars have gone into hiding and the fireflies into hibernation. I stay where I am and watch the clouds float by, counting off how many figures I can make of one. Now that the sun is up I can hear birds singing good morning and squirrels climbing on trees. It’s nice to be so far away from other people that you can’t hear cars, the freeway, or any kind of man made structures. The only thing you can see for miles is the trees and a small river that flows through, undisturbed. Once I sit up, I turn around to see my forgotten sketchbook laying on the ground. I open it to the page of stars, and have the sudden urge to rip it out. It’s true that no one will ever be able to capture the complete and utter beauty that is the stars. Even a picture cannot do them justice. In a way, it is like having a picture of your favourite celebrity, but not being able to see them in person. I sigh and shut the sketchbook. I get up and start wandering down my self-made path. I hum a tune as I go, making up random notes that soar or sink as they flow into each other. Suddenly I stop in my tracks. I heard it, on the outskirts of my hearing. A bird, or maybe multiple, repeating my song back to me. They stop almost as quickly as I do, but not quickly enough. I look up to the trees and sing the famous Snow White melody. They seem to respond almost a second after each note, but it sounds heavenly. Having no one to talk to but nature may seem lonely to some, but for me it is a dream come true. I don’t plan on going back to the real world anytime soon. 

Once I walk for quite some time, I come upon the river that runs through this forest. With nothing but my hands, I kneel and cup some water to take a drink. It must be the freshest water I’ve ever tasted. Just pure, natural, and clear. I see small fish swimming downstream happily and don’t mind that they live in the water I just drank from. We are all derived from single specks of micro-organisms. If you can’t get along with other humans, there’s no way you’re able to get along with other species. Unless, in some cases, you tend to like animals and nature more than people. The way that nature can’t lie. Animals show their true selves. You don’t have to constantly second guess what you say. If only more people could understand that we can have best friends that aren’t exactly like us. Or at all like us, in fact. Perhaps your best friend is a dog. At least you don’t have to look good for them, or worry about singing off key or embarrassing yourself. Do any of that in front of a dog and you’ll laugh at yourself. Unconditional love is one of the best feelings in the world. Why on earth would you choose love from someone that only likes a part of you? That seems unethical. While I sit and ponder these things, I feel completely content. I could stay here forever. The sound of the water rushing over rocks and the trees shaking their leaves as they laugh. Before I know it I’ve slipped into a peaceful sleep on the side of the riverbed. I dream of nature, and of babbling brooks. I dream of sketching and singing birds and, as always, the stars. Once I wake up, my dream becomes a reality. The stars wink at me playfully and I wish I could touch them. But if you could hold a star in the palm of your hand, it wouldn’t be as beautiful, would it? If you could find fireflies anywhere, they wouldn’t be so delightful to see. If you could hear birds sing to you anytime, it would become boring. If you could drink water from streams at any time, it wouldn’t be as tasteful. But the stars- well, they’ll be wonderful forever.