The familiar feeling of serenity washes over you like a wave as you begin your daily evening walk on this previously abandoned path. Though the scenery is similar to that you might find in a book, no one seems to have noticed the presence of this beauty nor the trail that snakes between it. You prefer it that way, though – you are grateful for the quiet of nature untouched by civilization.
As you look around, you notice how much the trees have changed. Since you found this path a year ago, you’ve watched these trees through all of their stages of life. Like watching your children through their development, you’ve seen these trees resurrect from their wintery graves into bright green celebrations of life; in the summer, their leaves make shapeless shadows dance across the path; in fall, they become alive with fire, turning crisp reds, deep purples, and blinding yellows. Then, as the cold arrives like an unwelcome visitor, the leaves fall to the ground and crunch under your feet as snow glistens from every branch. It feels nice to focus on the unimportant and beautiful change of the colors, because at home there is far too much ugly to focus on otherwise.
At home, bills must be paid, children must be fed, work must be done, the house must be cleaned. At home, your husband needs reassurance that next time, dear, they’ll hire you, dear, it’s not your fault they laid you off, dear. At home, your mother is sick and your father is in the ground and without two jobs to pay for everything, she goes without treatment. At home, no one stops to think about you, how is she feeling today. No, you are overlooked because you do all of the work. I should take a vacation, you think bitterly, and then they would all see how much I do for them. But that’s the job of a mother, you realize – to go unrecognized for your sacrifice because you love your children, and your husband, and your parents much more than you love yourself.
You shake these disruptive thoughts out of your head and focus on a bird singing on one of the branches hanging over the path. The whole reason to come out here in the first place was to get away from it all, so you might as well not think about what you’re getting away from, you scold yourself. You take a deep, nourishing breath and get on with your walk. The sun is starting to set, and the sky matches the trees in its yellows and oranges and pinks. It’s a good think you brought a coat, and even so you shiver slightly as the wind rustles the leaves in the trees like a sweet whisper. Here, in the heart of the abandoned forest, the serenity is sedating and you feel as though if you could just stand here, in this one spot, for long enough, the world would just go on without you.
But your phone buzzes from your pocket and you’re jolted back to reality. It’s time to make dinner, so you turn around and walk back to the life you often complain about. These walks through the trees, you realize, have made you more grateful for that life.
Rachel's Reflections 