O Nature!
First published 9/21/2000

Ah! Autumn is upon us: a bittersweet time when summer's passing is marked by the golden spectacle of a multitude of falling leaves.

An apt moment, perhaps, for some Thoreau-like contemplation on the beauty and mystery of Nature.

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Bees are nice. They are gentle. They make honey and pollinate flowers. Of all the things that sting you, they are my favourite.

Similarly, of the things that disembowel you, I feel tigers are the prettiest.

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Like the lovely flowers in my garden, so too must we all someday die. But we will never truly be gone, so long as our friends and loved ones keep our brains alive in vats.

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Consider the stars in the night sky: how lovely, how brilliant, how glittery. And yet, so often, the aliens who come from these same lovely stars just want to kill and destroy, like predator, or that chick from Species.

How could aliens who come from such beautiful stars be so evil? I blame rap music.

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It's as though the wind in the trees is calling out my name, thought Russell.

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I think, if I could be any type of animal, I would be a chimp, because then I could appear in a Disney comedy. Would I captain a football team or run a nuclear reactor or learn to drive a cab? Who knows! I tell you this: whatever I did, you can bet your bottom dollar it would be hilarious.

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What would the flowers say to us if they could talk? Could we really understand them? Not if they spoke Portuguese.

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As I look out over my yard I realize that even the lowly toadstool growing in my garden is a holy object. Full of vitality and life, a microcosm of the universe, it is a sacred mystery.

Same with that old chip bag. I wonder if there are still chips in there?

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Consider the bird.

Consider the rock.

Consider the flower.

Hands on your hips... ha! I didn't say "Simon says!"

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I think that I will never see a poem as pretty as a tree. I'm sure they're out there, but who reads poetry?

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How would scientists like it if animals performed experiments on them? Not too much! Because those animals totally didn't deserve that grant. Politics!

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"Whoosh," says the wind. "Whoosh whoosh whoosh!"

"Butter," says the Parkay container. "Butter butter butter!"

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As I lay amongst the tall wild grass, I felt connected to the Earth, attached to the planet in a very real way.

And then, in one sudden horrible moment, I realized I actually was. So, it was a trap all along... well, you'll get yours soon, Captain Stickygrass!

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