Tiny Hill

There is a tiny hill in the valley where I used to live in Jamaica that led to my grandmother's house. There I would linger and journey through time and space, and eons of my own self evolution. The road wasn't paved and no electric lights ran through to offer assistance in this utter darkness, but I welcomed the night's blanket without complaint. In this place, I am surrounded by giant trees with tiny animals, and monstrous mountains. This was music to my ears. How Henry David Thoreau had it right when he too realized nature was an unexplained happiness.

I wonder I you've felt it too: the peace that comes with being one with the natural world. during the day time, this tiny hill's scenery is one of a majestic garden, covered with wild flowers of different colors, shapes, and sizes and border lined with evergreen trees that stand tall, and stand watch of the undisturbed beauty inside. It's simply beautiful. How I used to take for granted all this beauty and now my soul is restless whenever I'm away. I too want to stand tall and be strong, and protect the wild streak of beauty I possess. This tress, these flowers, has become an emblem of me, and during the night, whilst they slumber, I like the tiny animals, come out and roam their beauty.

Their soft cricketing is now a symphony of sounds to my ears. Whilst they go unaware of my intrusion into their world, I'll sit beneath the night sky and allow their music to pour over my restless soul. Their gentle prodding awakens me from my deep and dark abyss and I am whole again. I would sit on a rock and close my eyes and just listen. My tiny hill lives undisturbed with the exemption of my tiny animals I've now re imagined as tiny people. How busy they sound at dusk as night draws on and undisturbed of nay troubles that exists in my worked.

My world! I would exchange my world for one night deep within their wild flowers and whistle along to their happy tune. There I know no "black melancholy" would precede me.

I escape my reality to my tiny hill where monstrous mountains hover over us both. You can mistake their appearance as nature's tactic for intimidation. Their monstrous sizes and multiple shadows is nothing to fear. They do not harbor danger. I wouldn't run from these mountains due to fear, I would run towards them for protection. I could live off the land as long as I'm on my tiny hill and protected by my monster mountains. They have become a sanctuary for my weary worn spirit.

This is my place in nature; my tiny hill where I was raised; my tiny hill where my imagination ran through the wild flowers and danced with the tiny animals and basked underneath the shadows cast by the moon. This is where I am free of my troubles and allow myself to breathe the uncontaminated air o nature. I live, I grow and wild and free. I protect and live with the music of nature. There I can see myself clearly and continue on my journey through life, but whenever things get too difficult to handle. I will retreat to my tiny hill and restore my spirit.