Nature is the most profound art we’ll ever gaze upon. It’s art in motion, whose canvas is ever-changing. Our rivers continue to carve into canyons. Towers of bark reach toward heaven supporting birds in song. If you sit quietly can almost always feel it’s pulse and here it whisper to you. A sunrise and a sunset begins and ends each day, with breath-taking splendor. This work is sustained but has never been contained. Although we often seek to preserve it in photographs. What about being idle when it’s being altered by our own hands? Its beauty diluted and polluted. We watch as our napkins as they are carried away by the wind and often don’t chase after them because we are afraid of appearing foolish? When was the last time you did just that? Personally, I’ll chase after mine unless the wind kicks into overdrive and then I give up. Shame on me. Shame on you. Shame on us.
I don’t care what artists or poets work you admire. Da Vinci or Van Goh. Robert Frost or Shakespeare. No disrespect to the greats but they pale in comparison. These are precious pieces of work readily accessible to all. We don’t have to pay a fee. We don’t have to drive for miles. All we have to do is look out the window or immerse ourselves in it. Saturday I did just that.
After I took my final I needed to recharge my batteries so I headed to my favorite park. I figured I’d walk around, tickle heaven with my toes and gaze into the Rouge. I was walking around and came across a trio of ducks who were sitting on the bank. They didn’t seem too threatened by my pressence so I enjoyed a rare treat standing within feet of the happily singing ducks. While I was listening to them sing, I saw a Styrofoam canoe. You know one of those boxes you get you feel like you’ve ate enough? Anyways it was just sailing down the Rouge. I looked at the ducks and then looked at the Styrofoam box, then darted down the river bank. I grabbed a large branch laying on the ground and followed it. I tried at several intervals during my journey to fish it out of the water in hopes of restoring dignity to this flowing art. My difficulty in fishing it from the water came from my height, but I continued to walk a brisk path. I thought maybe it’ll drift over to the side or get caught in a tree along the river. It did for a time, and seeing my chance, I made an attempt to circle the river. Unfortunatley it lead me to a deadend, so I was forced to return. As I did the piece of Styrofoam had freed itself from the grasp of the trees but was dead center in the river. I enjoyed my quest but alas eventually had to abort my mission. After returning to my source, if you will I saw clumps of litter scattered everywhere. I found myself picking up the litter so it’s waves wouldn’t have to carry the burden of such disrespect. I spent an hour joyfully picking up the trash.
As an artist nature is one of my major sources of inspiration. It was like I was uncapping my pen and digging the garbage from its soil, so my pen may write it’s voice.