Written By: Mikey Lysiak, Staff Writer
La beau nature… an evinced posterity that surrounds us – that created us in its sincerity. Breathless plants that sprout when called to it, flowers that bloom when the spring announces its arrival, crops that provide sustainability whether or not someone in need comes, and leaves that fall from thin branches when their course has run.
Nous n’aimons pas la nature… sadly. No time is taken to lay a blanket on the fresh grass watered from the heavens and rest on the soft soil with a loved one. No longer is it necessary to watch the supernal and the clouds that are held within it to see the coming forces of the atmosphere – to know if the sunlight will remain or if rain will take its place. It is not in our interest to let our bare feet touch the sand and let the cold waves spill onto our skin, or to make the water propel us using sacrifices from the trees as we maneuver across a small lake and watch the lily pads move silently.
L’océan did not ask for our disposals, only deserving to contain its rightfully owned algae and algal spume, marine creatures and hydrophytes, not our open and dirty beverages nor nets or plastic material. But with ignorance a whole gyre must carry our inconsiderate attitudes and bear the weight of our misdoings, and how is this faced?
Ce n’est pas… it is not of concern to hear the cries of the ocean, or sorrow from neglected nature. Our heads fall down and absorb artificial light, not the vitamins from above. Our eyes do not see the minute details and patterns of the Golden Ratio – we are only encapsulated unknowingly by many small pixels that create meaningless pictures; while nature has unspoken meaning, however, because it cannot speak. It is unheard. It is not mother of all beings, but the manufactured drug that is crucial to have; without it, we beg and bore, when the crops should see that. Without it, we can’t focus, when the weather should see that need, as it gives us the outline of the future. Even without it, we do not realize we have a whole glossary to witness out the window.
Nous avons oublions the mystery of our surrogate, the impossibility of our planet, our home, the miracle that we breath; and thus nous avons oublions how precious it is to keep our source of oxygen, our source of air and gas, and our source of footing clean, not just using it to support our selfish needs. Nous avons oublions to take a walk by a stream; now all we do is sit alone, with our back and arms crunched, and our heads pulled forward, our eyes strained by whatever we are looking down at. We have forgotten what is real, the importance, the principle – we have forgotten la beau nature, parce que nous dormons, parce que nous avons oublions.
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