Un-Shattered
Personal Reflections on a Broken World
The sound of the creek outside my open door and the morning
sun shooting shafts of light onto my porch as it makes its way across the final
peaks of the Blue Ridge gives light to the small flock of Eastern Turkey scratching for
a morning meal. The various deer graze just beyond them. A small chipmunk runs from here to there,
busy with its task, and a variety of birds come to roost on the archway that is
just outside the door where I sit sipping my morning coffee. I breathe in the peace knowing it is
temporary.
This is my sanity, these moments alone in the mountains. Moments of peace orchestrated by the sights and sounds of the natural world around me bring a quietness to my soul, no matter how temporary. One call, text, or email can change everything. Or, when I simply step away from this haven back into the reality of day to day life, a chaotic world filled with struggles is guaranteed to bring at some point another crisis.
This is my sanity, these moments alone in the mountains. Moments of peace orchestrated by the sights and sounds of the natural world around me bring a quietness to my soul, no matter how temporary. One call, text, or email can change everything. Or, when I simply step away from this haven back into the reality of day to day life, a chaotic world filled with struggles is guaranteed to bring at some point another crisis.
Like the sudden burst from a hunter’s gun, the words and actions of mankind often bring deep hurt. These acts of destruction are sometimes brought about through carelessness, while at other times by direct intent.
Like the
deer baited and then killed by the very hand that temporarily offered it life, those who work so diligently to
earn our trust sometimes lie in wait for the moment of opportunity to strike, as
we sit, an unsuspecting target. Once hurt, there we lie trying desperately to bind up the wounds and find the strength to pull ourselves together so that we can return to the task at hand.
I grab my camera to take a picture of the untamed creatures
outside my door. Their heads come up and then they freeze as they wait for the first sign
that they should run. I recoil from the idea that their peace is disturbed by my presence and retreat into
the shadows.
I will hold the scene of a morning not yet shattered in my memory, rather than seek to capture it digitally. I may not recall exactly the way the sun looked rising above the mountain ridge, the dew sparkling on the grass, the exact turn of the deer’s head, or the graceful lines of her body, but I will hold to the moment left un-shattered.
I will hold the scene of a morning not yet shattered in my memory, rather than seek to capture it digitally. I may not recall exactly the way the sun looked rising above the mountain ridge, the dew sparkling on the grass, the exact turn of the deer’s head, or the graceful lines of her body, but I will hold to the moment left un-shattered.