A Rainy Adventure (Extended Journal Entry)

 Although I should have noticed the signs present in the sky, I found myself in the middle of a light rainstorm Monday evening as I walked through Foster Park. There was no sign of the sun, and a thick, gray blanket blocked the visibility of all other celestial objects as well. It was difficult to find the energy to explore in such gloomy weather, but the calmness of the outside world told me that this was a prime opportunity to gain a great deal of natural insights. The rain was coming down in a light drizzle, leaving small orbs of water on the small cotton tufts that covered my aged shirt, and small puddles began to form within the indentations along the path before me. I could feel the moisture going through to the tips of my socks, but the white noise of the soft rainfall kept my mind calm as I began my journey.

After crossing a small wooden bridge that stretched across a five-foot-wide creek, I had reached the beginning of the main trail. The stiff sidewalk helped me avoid the mud that was collecting in the areas without grass, but I could not help but think that this artificial path prevented me from being fully immersed into nature at this point. This part of walking trail was home to several brightly flowering trees which were clearly of the same species (now known to be crepe myrtles); despite their relation, the colors of their foliage gave them each a unique aura: pure, bright white flowers elicited ideas of serenity and peace; soft, light pink flowers evoked a sense of delicacy; and sharp, neon pink flowers brought to mind the idea of strong and proud beauty. 

I had no doubt that these feelings were evoked as some part of reflexive system that is specific to humans, but I was unable to think of how these colors could give off any other message. To me, it seemed as though their nature had to be objective rather than subject to my own fantasies and biases. There was a great deal of variety in the size and shape of the bundles of flowers among these trees, but their beauty did not register any differently as I moved from one bundle to the next.

The raindrops collected just as easily on each delicate flower petal as they did on my shirt, and they added a notable glisten to the blossoms which was contrasted perfectly with the dark colors found both in the sky and in the tree that produced them. I saw that the bases of these trees were surrounded by the deep brown of dampened soil, and I was glad to see that nature was taking such good care of itself. Such a perfect escape from the stresses of life is a necessity in this world, so I was heartened to see that the environment most conducive to such escapes is able to nourish and improve itself. I walked back and forth between these trees for quite a while and closely inspected the flowers and bees that fed from them, and then I decided to move along in search of a rawer form of nature that was produced by chance rather than human intervention.

To achieve this and get out of the rain (which was quickly increasing in strength), I decided to go off the trail and down a dried-up runoff creek. The rocks that lined the creek bed were rough at the top and not tightly settled, so it was clear that water did not fill this section of the creek very frequently. This path made obvious the catastrophic impact that humans have made in that specific area of what was surely once a beautiful forest, but I reminded myself that this particular damaged area was created out of necessity to preserve the rest of the park rather than out of pure malice or greed. I was slightly bitter at the fact that this destruction was done in an area that appeared to have very little use for flood control, but the damage had unfortunately already been done which made dwelling on it for too long seem pointless. In a way, I was impressed by man’s ability to have such a major impact on the grand force of nature, so the damage was intriguing enough to keep my attention for quite a while. Still, staring at the many exposed root systems along the dried waterway seemed to be an almost macabre experience upon deeper reflection, so I gathered my photographic evidence of destruction and shuffled away in hopes of finding more natural beauty that was untouched by humans in their pursuit to make the world more comfortable for themselves with no regard for the remainder of natural life.

 

Thankfully, I did not have to travel far before finding the beauty for which I was searching – a sign that nature was grateful for my willingness to explore her wonders. As I moved back toward the main path, I found a secondary trail that appeared to connect two distant points along the main route. This hidden pathway continued to shield me from the elements, and its high walls reached across each other to make me feel as though I was nestled in nature's warm embrace. 

Looking around, I saw few animals and insects, and I saw no signs of the rainfall that had covered every bit of the world outside of this small nook. I had found an Edenic refuge as a result of my exploration, and I refused to attribute its discovery to anything other than Nature herself thanking me for my time. I stayed in this sheltered area for quite a while to watch the trees shine and sway in the storm, and I did my best to take in the sights, smells, and sounds of such a pure representation of the natural world. 

 

After a long period of silent (on my end) reflection, I felt satisfied with that day's journey into the wilderness. My mood had been greatly improved as a result of my foray into the wilderness, and I also felt that I had gained a deeper appreciation for the many types of beauty that can be found in the world. I was not able to remain dry once I rejoined the main path, but I was so at ease from the momentary escape that even the continuation of rough weather could not act as an impediment to my newfound state of calm happiness.