Seeing Less

I close my eyes to forget the day and the pleasant whir of the wind in the trees is interrupted by the cacophony of an airplane and when the noise finally passes the birds make themselves heard with admirable musical talent. The wind blows again and it tickles my leg but it occurs to me that it must be a leaf because, although I can feel the wind, it somehow remains intangible. The life of this place fills my nostrils in the scents of rich soil and stale bark. I am distracted by the wriggle of something progressing from my fingertips to my elbow and I fight the urge to brush it off, hoping that I will earn respect as a good hostess. I fear the crunchy sounds of my steps and hope that they have not been too intrusive.

And when I open my eyes once my feelings of rejuvenation are lost and the looming semester clouds my vision. When asked to write down what is "on my mind" I am distracted because I have become so easily enthralled with the visual stimulants of this forest that my mind can do nothing but wander along, senseless yet busy. Now all that comes to me is the fact that my life is so consumed by visual stimulants that when I close my eyes to breathe in the world around me everything seems clear and the assignment is complete. And yet, when I open my eyes again I get lost in what I see and my thoughts become inchoate.