Africa

“Abby, let’s go to Africa!” 

“Africa? Like, the continent?” 

“No, Africa!” 

I didn’t understand what ‘Africa’ was until I was there. It turns out that ‘Africa’ wasn’t, in fact, the continent, but a wooden deck overlooking the marsh. Once we got there the first thing I asked her was, “Why ‘Africa?’” 

“Because,” she replied, “that section of water out there looks like Africa.” 

After turning my head to all angles imaginable, I finally realized what she meant. 

“Huh, it kind of does look like Africa,” I said. 

That was it, that was the whole of the conversation we had there. Sophie was the kind of friend that required no conversation, just company, and so, we sat in beautiful, comfortable silence. All we did was look out at the sun setting over the marsh. The way the vibrant blues faded into purples, oranges, and yellows, occasionally broken by wisps of clouds, mesmerized me. There was nothing else but the kaleidoscope of hues. The expansion of the fading sky into the dark greens of the marsh was separated only by the bold tree line. As if the trees were protecting the marsh from the sky, as the marsh protects the land from the sea. The pools of water that broke the elongated patches of marsh grass reflected the sky’s ripping performance. Looking at them was like looking down upon the sky; Stepping into those pools would result in falling from the sky. Instead of ending up in the mysterious, oceanic world beneath the surface, you would end up in the incessant world of birds and clouds, only to fall back to the ever disappointing world of humans. The marsh and it’s views were therapeutic. Each time the wind blew my hair across my face it took some of my stress with it. Each flap of the passing heron’s wings released the strain within me. This marsh’s ability to distract me from everything else in the world amazed me, and therefore, it became my favorite place. 

“As if the trees were protecting the marsh from the sky..”

The next day, I spent four hours at ‘Africa.’ Just as they did before, the views and nature around me seemed to diffuse all worry from me. I sat on that deck listening to the crickets, bees, birds, and winds live their untroubled lives around me. I imagined what it would be like to live as a bee or cricket, or even the winds. How would it feel to walk upon the buds of a flower? Would those yellow, pollen coated buds be soft or scratchy? How do the winds feel when they whip through towns? How many people do they see, with all differing  emotions and feelings? Am I much different from the ones they often see? These are the thoughts that this little marsh land brought to my mind. Just looking at the land was a meditation in itself. I had no use for a recording to instruct me on how to think, the nature around me did that on it’s own. The long, green switchgrass instructed me to think of the things that have rambled upon them; The crickets and odonata commanded me to think of plants and grass blades the height of skyscrapers. Being at ‘Africa’ was like looking into a different dimension; One without fears, stress, or anxiety. This picture represents the parts of the spell casted on me; the oranges that slowly enthralled me, the grasses that condemned me to leave my bubble of thought, and the setting sun that spoke the final, enchanting words.