Yellow Into Green – Part I
I remember once, a long time ago, standing at a window watching light filter through trees and grass and saturate the changing colors. I remember the wind made things move in the same way hair moves underwater, undulating and in slow motion. If there is one thing, above all, about Nature I am intrigued by it’s her precision. The seemingly infinite code-within-pattern-inside-purpose-wrapped-in-kin—and the interdependence and machinery embodied in so many wildly beautiful expressions of Life.
But at that moment all I could think about was photosynthesis and what I learned in fifth grade. The right mixture of heat and time and light and chemical enough to absorb the momentum of the ultraviolet and translate that particular portion of the spectrum into nourishment for a leaf lucky enough to have found itself upturned toward the sky.
But then fifth grade turned into higher grades and photosynthesis got analyzed even more. There was chemistry, physics, biology, geometry and calculus; trigonometry and biogeophysiochemical cycles. And if any of those come across your memory like they do mine, I certainly hope they don’t, with them, convey to you any notion that I possessed a command of any of those subjects. Because trust me, I didn’t. Though I love the sciences, I was no honor student.
Back to the window.
By that time in my life I’d managed to come through the academics (unimpressive a student as I was) with a heart still intact. Meaning, if there were an honor roll for those who could calculate calculations and graph graphs, or measure shapes and chart atoms and protons, yet still find all of the dialects wanting compared to the way a kindergartener might see them? Well. If that were the standard trust me, I scored perfect marks.
And then Life happened.
And came growing into adulthood (technically)…
And vowing Forever (relationally)…
And changing the diapers (infinitely)…
And struggling to make it in the world (still working on this one).
And, over time, Life ruined everything.
Everything.
I’m laughing as I type this because, as I type this I’m sitting on our bed and occasionally glancing out the window to the yard. I think I intended another direction when I began this piece, but as I got to ‘And, over time, Life…,’ I happened to look up and out the window while still typing. And my fingers, no longer governed by my conscious mind, were hijacked by my heart. And married the sunlight and deepest saturation of early Autumn color with what I really believe Life (and I mean God) did. And on purpose.
Ruin everything.
That is, over time and as dependably as the constancy of a tide, wear down the magic and wrest from the simplest of things the simplest of joys. Which sounds a great deal more doleful than I mean. From where I stand now, that is…looking at the colors again and remembering that long-ago day at the window when I watched the very same.
You start life as a child and you experience most of everything with all and only the faculties of child. It is Innocence. It is The Garden. Though there is vast knowledge of good and evil all around, you do not know (nor need to know) any of it. There is color and sound and taste and all the rest. Things are very base and very simple.
And then Life happens…
(Part II)
I know I must wait to read the final part of this entry, but I want to say something here, as far as the English I speak let me say it properlly.
It’s beautiful, as always you write down about Life, Nature and your feelings about them.
To me, knowing about the mechanisms of life, the biological, chemical, physics and mathematical laws that rule Life just add awesome and joy and surprise and humbleness and love to Life itself and its meaning.
To know that on Earth as it as on Heaven is real, it’s REAL, just gives me force and power to admire even more the hand that makes everything and anything possible.
As long as we’ve got older, all these secrets just added majesty to Life and admiration and haven’t changed a thing about how I see Life: I’m still admiring the beautiful of the deep turquoise sea, the ondulating rithym of the grass when it is kissed by the wind, the gentle dance of falling leaves and the constant miracle of reincarnation, rebirth and evolution.
Knowing that everything is connected just bring me more peace and gave to me a deeper look and a childish way to come closer to Life. Though it is full of dark and awful choices, tough decisions, diseases, uglyness and pain, Life’s still a miracle because I know how those miracles happen and how wonderful the Maker of all those surprises is.
And I’m getting older (though I don’t like it a thing about it) I’m still capable to look through the windows and watch the season changing, enjoying greens turning into yellows and oranges, and I can smile just like I did it as a child, because I feel the conection between us and Life, and Nature and Freedom.