Written this time last year; Earth Day 2004. Edited.

I awoke this morning to find it had rained, but no longer did the rain fall to the ground. Thus it was that I prepared for my journey across the vast campus to find the one who fills my head with old, dusty literature. Stepping out into the rain; oh yes, now it's raining. A light rain spatters the ground all around tweaking the landscape only slightly with its gentlest of touches. It caresses me as I slow down and walk in its cold, but comforting embrace. Nature is never closer to you than when it rains. It permeates your clothes, your hair, your skin. Do not hind yourself away.

As I walked I could see it gliding off trees in big drops as the smaller droplets gathered forces to assault the ground. It was now a full on attack as the rain grew heavier and unrelenting in its fervor. The dirt, doing its part, would not surrender to the rain even if it should persist forty days and forty nights. It would hold its ground till the rain exhausted itself, and though the soil would never be the same, it would not be defeated in this age old battle.

Combat raged on, and the musky smell of mulch assaulted my nose. It surrounded the trees only to assist, not to trap or threaten. The trees benefited greatly from these timeless battles, I knew, but do they feel the same pleasure as I do? Can they sense that without the rain they would perish? Do they understand that I will be gone long before them? Certainly not! These are just trees, but I feel like they should understand better than I how short life is. Oh the wisdom I could amass if I was a thinking tree, but if I could not speak, all would be but for my own benefit, and I would grow weary of my long lifetime. I do not envy the Trees.

Leaving the shelter of the trees I came upon an opening. It brought me no joy this day, as it sometimes does. To my left was a building; the work of men and machines. It does not exist in nature; it dulls us and makes us fear weather. To my right was a fountain. It imitates the sounds of flowing water but is an eye sore today as nature showed us what water is supposed to do. Under my feet the ground is suffocated by brick, lain down as much for aesthetic reasons as to keep mud off the feet of those passing through. Oh, the harm a little mud can do. Today, the brick glistens from an inspiring war, but the grass does too, and the bricks pale in comparison.

What have we done to this world? We have trampled Mother Nature and paved over her trodden corpse. We spew pollutants into rivers, streams, and the air we breathe. Yes, we breath the poisons that make the products we desire and pretend we don’t care. We don’t care that our vegetables are tainted as long as hormones are added to our animals so there is enough to go around. We are a breed of hypocrite the world has yet to see, and we’ve spiraled down so fast that people cannot see the cause of all the trouble is our desire to make ends meet in unnatural ways while nature, if alive, would writhe and pang with hurt. Will we ever stop? No, but perhaps we can slow down.