Timeless Evergreen

 The drive up was always somewhat of a therapeutic ritual. As the journey commenced, the time felt infinite. Once the path took a curvy turn, you knew you were close. An hour, maybe two. You’d adjust your playlist; make sure your music complemented your perplexed state of mind with your picturesque and increasingly grandiose landscape perfectly.  What goes with nauseating anxiety yet undeniable exhilaration for what you knew you were about to uncover? Anything that felt intimate; anything that made you feel like it was just you, the trees and this windy road. Oh, the troubles of a teenage soul.

 That time had come. Time to return. It was never quite clear whether you were departing from or embarking towards home. What is this home you speak of? Is it not possible to have more than one home? May you possess many more! Or perhaps no home at all, simply belonging wherever you may roam, wherever you are drawn to look twice. Until of course the time comes when inspiration has grown stale and you must be captivated again. Forever a nomad. Forever in search of your new home. No, it’s not that black and white. We are hypnotized by our own doubts. We ask questions like we desire to know the answer, but do we? These questions are what make us interesting; what sets us apart. They are our rebellion; our freedom. They keep us alive. They make us feel real. But more than anything, they keep us company. 

It’s a deep taunting sea of grey we find ourselves living in. Whether we swim, float, or sink; our fate remains the same. This is our ocean now. Our world beams and flows the same, endless waves of grey

You roll down the window, pop your head out and feel the air getting cooler and cooler, the higher you go. The cold feels sharp against your skin, but you like it. For a moment you think you’ve sampled a taste of fresh air, only to be replaced by thick black smoke oozing out of the over-crowded and over-decorated trucks, swerving past you, at full speed. A courageous yet reckless joy ride.  You look up to the mass of trees lined up along your way. You feel small, but the trees give you a feeling of comfort, the mountains a sense of protection. Yes, I’m not from here but I belong here too. I found myself here. If that doesn’t make it a home, I don’t know what would. You want nothing more but to immerse yourself into the heart of the forest and discover a new path in the maze of statuesque trees. A magical alluring concoction of sage, olive drab, rich jade and smooth vibrant emerald green.  A viridescent melting pot. Oh the stories you must have heard, the scenes you must have witnessed. The life you must have absorbed. Tales of violence, of courage. Tales of beauty, of survival. A web of secrets, treasures you will never reveal.  This is where history resides. In the crevices of nature and the cracks of the earth. Timeless, evergreen. Surely those branches will carry me, sustain me. Surely a path will illuminate and present itself to me

The leaves intersect and overlap, creating a safety net where you release your queries, reservations, fears, shame, qualms, oh and joy, joy and more joy. You pick up where you left off. The branches sway in agreement and whistle back in reassurance. It echoes through the crowd of trees, bouncing off each other like an orchestrated symphony. You are not alone here. You couldn’t possibly be, even if you tried. What majestic beauty, a humble yet authoritative demeanor. The beginnings of a recipe for respect and trust. As faithful as a reflection, the trees lead you home. And when the night came and you could no longer see the roots, the dark yet defined shadows and faint faraway lights strewn across the mountains like stars reminded you, they were still there. They would forever be and always have been there. When the guidance of the sun has set, it almost looks black. It almost makes sense.

Stay back! Don’t cut me down! Go ahead, whatever ceases here will not be lost for even a moment nor forgotten but forever live on. For like a tree, your roots will keep you firm. Whatever may be cut down, chiseled out or carved away, can be reborn, grow again and be as it was, if not grander