Scribbles on a Napkin

Mastery of the Term

Mother Nature truly is the most beautiful person that has ever existed.

For every single time you call a real person beautiful, remember how it looks on a cold winters day. How everything seems to move in slow motion as snowflakes fall to the ground, every single flake a new and intricate design with the craftsmanship that only she can provide. The world becomes muted, as if a thick blanket has been laid to rest on top of everything, and your surroundings become a vast expanse of white. Every breath that you take is another puff from your lips, quickly dissipating into the sky.

For every single time that you say that a person has a spectacular voice, remember how it sounds in the middle of the forest at the start of spring. No voice, tune, or instrument can ever hope to match the melodic tune of rushing water, new birds chirping as they cry hungrily for food, the crackle of twigs beneath your feet. Nothing can hope to match the sound of the breeze ruffling the branches, sending them swaying ever so slightly but making enough sound to fill the forest. 

For every time you say that a person has a stunning set of eyes, remember how it looks to stare into the sky. No iris can hope to match the vast expanse of a starry night sky, every speck of light ten million miles away yet still bright enough that you can see them. A stray comet flying across the sky for a show that only lasts for a moment before disappearing back into the midnight sky.

How can we as people truly call ourselves beautiful creatures when Mother Nature surely holds the crown? All that we need to do is simply look around to find true mastery of the term.