Tuesday, August 16, 2005
The City and Nature
The City is synthetic.
Once or twice removed from the suburb, which in turn is once or twice removed from the country, which finally is once or twice removed from Nature.
So the City is removed from Nature a potential of six degrees.
Numbers reside in the City. But show me 'one' and show me 'two'. The numbers are just signs of exchange for consumption.
Goods are bought and sold, the commerce of one stranger to another.
Transit is made by cars, in which sit individuals who only recognize others in the fact said individuals have been cut off in traffic.
Conversation in the workplace is often sterile and devoid of meaning.
The Country is Genteel.
The Forest, Natural.
Six degrees removed from the city. One cannot begin to count the manifestations of beauty. I can count the leaves on a branch, the branches on the limbs of deciduous trees.
The View, the Fields, the Panoramas, the evergreen needles crunched underfoot are completely and utterly Free.
You are not a stranger in the woods, acknowledged by a squirrel, spyed by an owl, enveloped by trees.
As you traverse a trail, you recognize a sycamore you remember from five years ago and are amazed at it's growth.
In the woods, when you pray, you feel God is as close to you as the trunks of the trees hugging the paths you take.
No topic is off limits, any sin can be confessed and forgiven, as you silently whisper your prayer into the forest breeze.
The City is synthetic.
Once or twice removed from the suburb, which in turn is once or twice removed from the country, which finally is once or twice removed from Nature.
So the City is removed from Nature a potential of six degrees.
Numbers reside in the City. But show me 'one' and show me 'two'. The numbers are just signs of exchange for consumption.
Goods are bought and sold, the commerce of one stranger to another.
Transit is made by cars, in which sit individuals who only recognize others in the fact said individuals have been cut off in traffic.
Conversation in the workplace is often sterile and devoid of meaning.
The Country is Genteel.
The Forest, Natural.
Six degrees removed from the city. One cannot begin to count the manifestations of beauty. I can count the leaves on a branch, the branches on the limbs of deciduous trees.
The View, the Fields, the Panoramas, the evergreen needles crunched underfoot are completely and utterly Free.
You are not a stranger in the woods, acknowledged by a squirrel, spyed by an owl, enveloped by trees.
As you traverse a trail, you recognize a sycamore you remember from five years ago and are amazed at it's growth.
In the woods, when you pray, you feel God is as close to you as the trunks of the trees hugging the paths you take.
No topic is off limits, any sin can be confessed and forgiven, as you silently whisper your prayer into the forest breeze.
