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The wind comes to greet me in the morning; it blows over the lake to find me. Softly it blows against my face, waking me; cool, scented with the smell of the lake I see when I look out the window, or the smells of blossoms in the spring, or the smell of rain.
I rise and become one with the wind. I let it take me to my favorite places. I imagine that I am the wind as I breeze along the curves and over the hills, flowing around the shoreline of the lake. I bring along the various scents, more blossoms, flowers, the scent of the pine trees.
I am one with everything, but this day I am the wind. I take in it all, I blow through the trees in the forests at Taughannock Falls, I listen to the sounds made as I gently move through the pines, through the maples, and the oaks. I see the sunlight as it dances through the pine forests, in the morning hours, the reflections off them are silvery white and when the sun begins to descend into the west, the reflections are now golden and sometimes like a golden red fire dancing through them. Scents of lilacs and junipers fill the air. And on the days when the forests bring the campers, I carry off the scents of bacon and eggs and toast with melted butter, along with me stirring up the appetites in hikers that walk past.
When the days are rainy, the sounds of the drops falling through the trees, through the bushes, the leaves, and onto the ground are primal beats of nature’s heart. I look above and let them fall onto me, cleansing me, renewing me; I drink them up and carry them along, like the mist that rises from the waterfalls at Taughannock. I mingle and mix with the mist and rise above as fog, hauntingly rolling up and over the cliffs, through the trees, along the pathways. Quietly, I envelope all as I travel through with my foggy cloak. The rain continues its love song and I move though the forests like a slow, romantic dance with my lover. Raindrops hang from the trees, glistening, before falling to the ground, feeding the life beneath.
The season’s change and some days I blow fierce as the leaves begin to fall away from the trees, and a blizzard of leaves dance through the land, beautiful array of colors so bold and proud. I continue to travel and take up the scents, new ones, smells of leaves decaying on the forest floor. I listen to the rustling of them as squirrels and chipmunks run though them in their games of hide and seek. The chickadees follow me along, singing me their songs, as well as the crows in the high tree tops, the cardinals, the jays, the wrens, the sparrows. We are all one with nature, all connected. The deer come out and graze, lifting their necks so elegantly to sniff the breeze as I roll past them.
As the days grow shorter and the air cools. The serenity of it all, as my land seems to have fallen asleep to wake again when the sun warms the land. Is it really asleep? No, my land never sleeps, the land that I soar above and below and through. I see all; I hear all.
The snow falls gently now, beautifully as it covers everything, giving the illusion that life is asleep, but some plants remain green while others go dormant, the birds still sing and the squirrels still play. The days the rain may fall, turn to ice on the barren tree branches, and now hang like the most beautiful diamonds, so beautiful to behold that I cannot contain my joy and elation. It rejuvenates me and I blow faster through the forests and cause the snow to kick up and whirl to share in this dance of joy with me. Together we soar down the cliffs and into the ravines, along the water ways, some covered with ice, and some not, we run through the air to the falls and twinkling lights of diamond ice still clinging to branches, like beautiful lights. The snow still dancing down from the cliffs. We gather up with the mist from the falls and as it blows to the sides of the cliffs, it clings and freezes and in some places, layering continually and forming a beautiful blue hue. Icicles grow and hang like nature’s chandeliers. I play music like the bow to the violin strings as I run through the trees. The low hums we make. I am one with nature and together we all become the first orchestra that ever played, ever heard. The most beautiful orchestra ever played, ever heard. The birds become the choir. The rain becomes the percussions, the squirrels and the chipmunks and other animals, not to be outdone, contribute as well. Listen to us all, as we all become one. Have you ever heard anything more beautiful?
In time, the ice thaws and the diamonds fall from the barren branches as they melt back to rain. The thump, thump, thump as they fall and seep into the ground, and the sun comes with its warmth again, telling the forest floor to ‘Wake up! Wake up it’s time to wake up again!” I sail through my forest and I see the buds emerging from the branches of their trees; I see the ground moving as new life pushes it away to see the sun and spring to life. The buds on the trees form blossoms that fill the air once again of the most fragrant of smells, and I carry them all over, like the finest of perfumes for all to enjoy. The leaves awake and unfold and wave their hellos as I fly past them. We greet one another and sing to our greatest creator and thankful we are to all be one with each other, one with nature.
Thankful I am to become the wind, but I am not really the wind, I am a girl, I am a woman, I am a child…a child who can run through my favorite place and I can take in all that I see, all that I hear, all that I feel, all that I smell. I truly am, one with nature.
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