I grew up in a city of concrete where you can hardly relate yourself to the colour green.
But thanks to my grandfather for making the rules, "wherever you go, you have to visit your hometown twice a year."
So, we have to visit my grandparent's house twice a year. Once in summer and other in winter.
My grandfather is very fond of trees. He always took special care of trees, like they are his children.
That's why that area was always covered with trees.
I still remember him crying over a pumpkin plant which was crushed by some wild animals. Instead of seeing it as funny, I thought it was weird, cause I encountered him so many times while he was talking to trees.
I wasn't that mature to understand why one should talk to trees. So, I asked him and he just replied they are silent.
Indeed they are silent. But they also have feelings like humans. They also can hear and see.
My grandfather took this advantage and so do I.
I like to talk to trees. Whenever I'm alone or life becomes too much to handle, I just sit under a tree and talk or sometimes keep silent and feel the presence of the soul of nature. I can say I adopted this habit from my grandfather.
The best part about them is that they don't talk back or try to argue. They just stand there and keep listening. Sometimes they try to comfort you with a slow breeze, just like a mother comforting her children after a long hard day.
I walk through roads lined up with trees so many times when I feel down or exhausted. Most of them were on the same road. But there is only one time that I will remember for the rest of my life until I die.
I went to my hometown for the winter vacation and back then I was just a schoolgirl who lost her only friend, to whom she thought she could open up her wound. Mad at herself and blaming her for not keeping it to herself.
I couldn't sleep that night and wake up at 5 am. I saw another side of the world. It's like nature was wearing a white gown made of fog. I wore my jacket and went to discover the rest of this world.
The ground was slightly wet as if someone had walked on wet feet. The small grasses and leaves of the roadside trees held the dewdrops as if they were precious treasures.
I took off my shoes and started walking barefoot.
Some trees stand in the mist as if they are sentinels, charged with protecting the beauty of the area.
I went to the edge of a small pond and sat under a cottonwood tree. People say that this tree is haunted, do not go under this tree alone. The same people again collect cotton from this tree and sleep at night on pillows made of this cotton. Funny isn't it?
People are very strange.
They use things whichever they pleased and when they get bored they either throw them away or else they spread funny rumours about them.
I saw the mist dancing in the water of the pond, I saw the little water spouts stuck in the spider's webs. And when the sunlight came I saw the water beads turn into small pearls.
That was the best morning of my life. I saw the true beauty of nature.
You can still turn yourself beautifully for tomorrow. That's what I learned that day from nature.
This helps me to regain my strength.
That morning remind me of what I need to be and where I belong to.