Friday, December 6, 2013

Rachel Popp- Experience of a Natural Setting #1


We stood together beside the Lion Bridge, soaking up this odd little section of nature in the middle of a big city. As I stood there with my fellow students, I couldn’t help but feel like I was searching for something. With the other students, I looked out at the water, at the statue, at the trees, but still couldn’t find what I was looking for. When the professor released us on the trail to do our own reflections, I quickly found a beautiful place to sit and opened up my journal to begin my reflections. But other students quickly followed my suit and I found myself distracted by the conversations and shuffling movements of others. So I gathered my things and began walking again. I quickly caught up to even more students and I found myself thinking, “They’re everywhere!” I just wanted to be alone at this point so, at my first opportunity, I veered off of the path and struck out into the woods in the direction of the water. I found a comfy spot a few yards off of the trail with an unobstructed view and tucked myself among the roots of an old tree. And there I sat, unmoving, for what felt like forever, just letting my surroundings sink in. That is where I found what I was looking for.

It might sound silly, but I was looking for me. I was looking for that feeling of home that each of us carries with us wherever we go. I’m not from the city and, oftentimes, the constant noise, people, and bustle of campus and Newport News itself makes me feel lost and confused. I live on a plot of 10 acres of woods with our house comfortably tucked in the middle of all of those beautiful trees. On campus, it seems like there are people everywhere all the time. And there are. It is noisy everywhere I go, even late at night, and the city is constantly lit up and in motion. Where I am from, there are no street lights. There aren’t even stoplights. The loudest noise I might hear at night is the hooting of an owl or the distant barking of a dog. Late at night, there usually aren’t even any cars out on the road. Don’t get me wrong, Christopher Newport University is home and where I belong, but sometimes I lose who I am in the fast-paced daily life here.

Anyways, sitting there in the arm-like roots of a tree, I felt calmer and more like myself than I had in months. Maybe I even experienced a little dose of flow. So I drank in the smell of wet earth, the sound of croaking frogs, and the unmatchable blue of the sky. Then I opened my notebook and started to write about the feeling of home that I got there in the middle of the woods. I wrote about one sentence before flipping the page and writing a poem instead.

 

Inferno

One teardrop hits the stillness of the lake and the ripple spreads into eternity

Frogs call, crickets chirp, and birds of all kinds conduct a delicate symphony

They accompany her sobs, the gentle mewls a heart-wrenching solo

Her face contorts in anger at the world, but I can still see her halo

Cobwebs veil her face as she spots me through the cacophony of silence

And I wrap the twilight around me, ashamed for fearing a look so intense

But its deep, she’s deep, and the anxiety rocks me like an earthquake

She looks away and I’m glad. How much more could I take?

But the fear turns into bitterness and I gnash my animal fangs

She smiles for she understands the balance in which earth hangs

I fall into the water and it heals me in its suffocating embrace

And as the ripples spread across the lake, a smile stays on her face

Life fades away to blackness as I descend into a heavenly inferno

Will she save me from this could-be death? I still do not know

But I am her and she is me so where does she begin and I end?

This understanding of everything and nothing I no longer dare pretend

 

When I finally finished the last line of the poem, the shadows were already beginning to grow and I had clearly outstayed the class period so I packed my things and picked my way back to the trail before heading home. I honestly got far more from the trip than I had originally expected. I got to find myself.

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