A Tale of Three Trees

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Oak

It was pouring last night, and I had to bear the brunt of the storm. That’s the curse of being the tallest tree in the forest. They call me “the mighty oak tree”, but I’m anything but mighty. I was wet and cold and shivering and miserable throughout the night, while Willow, Bamboo, Sycamore, Pine, and the others were sheltered under my canopy. I even had a couple of my arms snap in the torrential rains, and now I look deformed and ugly.

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Bamboo

I could hear Oak screeching and cracking all night. He’s rigid in mind and body, but he’s the one who keeps us safe. When lightning strikes, he gets hit first. When Fire arrives, he gets burned the worst. I feel for him, but I don’t admire him like I admire Willow.

Unlike Oak, Willow sits serenely by the lake, contemplating Water. Willow sees beauty wherever she looks. She sways with Wind, dangles her arms, and gently brushes Earth’s soil. I can see her reflection in Water’s face, and she is always smiling. Never have I seen Willow complain about anything. She bends to make room for the other trees to grow, and she never gets burnt because she stays close to Water, the source of life, the source of peace.

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Willow

I can see Bamboo learning and growing with every day that passes. It seems like it was yesterday when he was only a seed and then a sprout, but now he is almost as tall as Oak. Even though he shot up in a relatively short amount of time, he hasn’t become old, brittle, and cynical like Oak. Instead, he’s been a good, humble student and learned the lessons I’ve taught him well. He draws on Water to nourish and sustain him, and he bends with Wind to avoid cracking.

Bamboo stays strong and supple by aiming high, and he shoots up toward Sun, the source of light. Throughout the seasons, he stands erect and strong… but never rigid…and hence he will remain everlastingly green. 

The Way of the Romantic

"I must create a system or be enslaved by another man's; I will not reason or compare: my business is to create."-William Blake

Reality has made me forget what it means to be a Romantic. The mundane routine of life can take its toll, making one forget his purpose in thie world. Recently, I stumbled upon an exhibition at the Tate Britain that reminded me of why I write, blog, and create. It reminded me that the Romantic is a dreamer, an idealist, a believer. The exhibition, titled the Romantic Movement, made me quite nostalgic of my Virginian days, when I was loner searching for the truth. I recall going to a used bookshop one day and buying 100 books of ecletic genres. Goethe's, Decartes', and Wordsworth's works became my new companions. Without knowing it, I was in a quest to become a Romantic.

According to a caption hung on the exhibition's entrance, Romanticism is a movement that "describes preoccupations of thinkers, writers, and artists expressed with special intensity at a particular point in history: liberty and individual rights, the creative power of the human mind and our relationship to the natural world." In a sense, I see it is a form of worship. By using one's intellect to ponder upon creation and to create and innovate, one is fulfilling his/her purpose. The poets who explored love and the beauty of nature were in essence paying tribute to the factors that make life "special."

I was in awe to see how the oil and water color paintings hung on the museum's walls were a reflection of emotions, moods, feelings experienced by their creators. For instance, Turner actively made use of Color Theory to project certain emotions. Yellow was meant to epitomize hope and divinity, whereas grey and black reflected darkness and emptiness. The Romantics coupled these techniques with images of the sublime. Natural landscapes of mountains, seas, and lakes were meant to show the grandeur of God's creation.

The fact of the matter remains that this was a purely Western movement which thrived in the 17th century. Nevertheless, as a aspiring Romantic, I imagine this movement to be more all-encompassing. Any human being who seeks to use his/her mind to wonder, dream, and create his/her own world qualifies.

As my time in London comes to a conclusion, I am grateful that my time in this city has rekindled my romanticist soul.

Snow

I've realized that staying in one place for 24 hours makes you think a lot. My thoughts aren't innovative, ingenious, or grandiose. Rather, I began to think about the simple things, like washing the dishes, boiling some fava beans and eggs for breakfast, pouring the milk and realizing that its the same degree of white as the snow. When there's no rush, one tends to think about the simple things in life. These are the thoughts of someone stranded on an island.

Rather, I find myself stranded on a snowy island. Snow has engulfed my apartment to the extent that I can't open my front door. I had only heard of such snow storms up north in Montreal and Michigan, but never could have fathomed that they would take place down south in Cville. The silence and emptiness caused by the storm is almost scary. Its as if life has ended

I know that back home in Egypt, this storm would be unbelievable, so I think its worth sharing this experience.

Today, I was supposed to fly out of Cville to the sunny Egypt. Instead, after waking up to an unusual chill, I was shocked to look out my window and see that the snow had climbed quarter way up my window.

Snow quarter way up my bedroom window

At this point, I thought I must be dreaming, but when I went to look out the door, I couldn't open the door. I was trapped inside my house.

I don't think writing about it does much justice. Pictures really are worth a thousand words in this case, so enjoy:

View from my kitchen window

View from my doorstep

I'm the type of person who likes to be on-the-run and always outdoors, so this snow is a bit frustrating, but I think it is also an opportunity. I've never really spent a whole day in this apartment since I moved in, so this may be an excellent opportunity catch up on some reading and watch a film. Come to think of it, I might learn a thing or two about spending time alone. But first, back to packing for Egypt.

Lost In The Wilderness: Ragged Mountain

Charlottesville's weather had been muggy all week. Surprisingly, today was a divine blessing: sunny, colorful, and cheerful. What an ideal day to spend outdoors. Tim, my dutch friend, and I discovered heaven on earth just a couple of minutes driving distance from where we live. This paradise is the Ragged Mountain Natural Area. Tim and I share several interests ranging from literature to sports, but nature is a prominent one.

Tim revealed this magnificent forest to me a couple of weekends ago. Ever since, I've been dying to go back. Every time we go on a hike there, we discuss everything and anything about life, philosophy, world affairs... you name it! As we walk through oak, pine, and maple trees, we are awed by the charm of the autumn milieu. The multitude of colors makes walking through this forest almost a surreal experience.

The forest with its multitude of colored leaves

Our mission on these hikes it to reach the lake. This is where the lake's real enchantment reveals itself. Since we usually come towards sunset, the glistering reflection of the sun on the water lends an almost divine atmosphere to the place. Looking at the lake at this time of the day is as if looking at the most beautiful starry constellation God has to offer.

The sun's reflection off of the lake

There is always such a serenity to this place. This is what I've always been craving to discover in Charlottesville. One's soul feels refreshed by sitting among the trees. The scenery is one the calms the senses.

This time around, Tim and I decided to get some reading done. As we drove along the winding road to the parking lot, we listened to some heavenly Mozart music and looked forward for a pleasant day. We never would have imagined what turn of events were waiting around the corner for us.

We reached the park around 3:30pm. Equipped with our books and camera, we set off along the trail we knew best. We followed this path up and down several hills through the mushy ground filled with dry leaves and residue of this week's rain. Upon reaching the lake, we decided to continue our exploration expedition. Why settle for beauty when you can have more? This was the notion we had behind continuing further into the wilderness. What we didn't take into account was that after sunset, there would be a very slim chance for us to escape the grasp of the wilderness.

Deviating from the trail, we reached a huge dam. The curiosity in us pushed us along. We decided to cross the dam to reach the other side of the lake. Ahead of us lay a huge mountain. By our calculations, we could cross this mountain to circumvent the lake. What we hadn't noticed was that we were racing against time. The clock was ticking, and it would soon be sundown.

A photo of Tim on the dam

A photo of myself on the dam

We reached the summit of this second mountain around 4:30pm. We had reason to worry at this point since the sun would set in half an hour. We decided to turn back. The joy of a pleasant stroll turned into anxiety. Fasting, my body was almost depleted of energy at this time. Luckily, Tim had some chocolate to rejuvenate my body. As we rushed back to climb the second mountain, we realized that we had lost our trail. We began to panic as the sun was showing its last rays. If we lost the sun, we would have no way of getting out of here. The sun was our only hope to finding the right path.

We climbed the summit of the first mountain, which was at 980 feet. We needed the right path to descend. Every time we found a trail, it would lead us to a dead end. The belief that God would guide me back home put me at ease. I have to admit that Tim was panicking a bit. If worst came to worst, we would spend the night here until sunrise next morning. After running around at sunset, Tim and I stopped. Instead we would use our animal instinct to re-trace our footsteps. One clue led to another. Suddenly, I found a smooth surface. This must be the trail, and indeed it was!

Just as the sun was saying its last goodbyes, we used the remaining light to run down the right path. We ended up in the marshes at the foot of the hill. This wasn't quite where we'd parked the car, but at least we were on the right side of the mountain. We made it out alive! What a nightmare we'd been through! I believe my deep conviction that God was overseeing our endeavor to escape had become a reality. We hopped in the car with the rush of adrenaline still in our system. We were saved in the nick of time! This was just another instance that miracles do happen. This is another one of my Charlottesville adventures that I wouldn't let slip away without a blog post.

Ragged Mountain's Enchanting Lake

The Pond

I couldn’t get myself to pen this entry without actually visiting the pond. So here I am, with the most tranquil and peaceful landscape before my eyes trying to explain why I consistently find myself back here to reflect and contemplate. I am a firm believer that the environment you surround yourself with affects you internally. As some would argue, there is a high level of Qi in natural scenery, but this pond is exceptional. I have yet to stumble upon a spot that brings together some of Virginia’s most colorful botany side by side as this Pond does. It brings together the diverse and colorful Virginian botany. I truly envy the inhabitants of this paradise; i.e. the same four ducks that encounter every visit.

I have found strolling around this pond for the past three sunsets. I sit and watch people come and go past the pond, but no one actually bothers to sit by the pond to meditate. They really are missing out on a lot. Especially during the sunsets…there tends to be some much serene energy in the atmosphere.

I am certain that the past three days have been the most ideal of the whole year. They are autumn’s goodbye gift to Virginia. The sky has been crystal clear blue, except for some ornamental clouds, and the trees have unveiled their true beauty, each with its own degree of red, orange, or yellow. I have to admit that I’m lucky to have returned to blogging to record these memories of my last autumn in Virginia.

Virginia is one of those few places which actually gives an equal share to each of the four seasons, but autumn is by far my favorite. You see Mother Nature in its purest form as it sheds its beauty from one layer to another. It's also the mildest season, neither to chilly nor humid… its ideal. The sun radiates its heat giving one that cozy warmth in an approaching winter. The birds seem to appreciate this time of the year the most, chirping and singing away. The pond is the one place that epitomizes Virginian nature and its sheer glory.

But really, what is it about this pond that keeps me coming back?

I have some emotional attachment to this place. I remember when I first received my camera in the mail, the first thing I did was tear it out of its box, charge the battery, adjust its photography settings, hop on my bike, and visit the pond. The pond and its ducks were one of those few safe havens that accepted me during times of absolute solitude. Here, I lost track of time and forgot the outside world. All my negative thoughts and feelings would dissipate in the air like the morning mist.... I would feel connected to nature on the most primitive level. My camera allowed me to take snapshots of these memories, which I would often go back to as a means of revisiting my pond memories.

At these times of solitariness, I would imagine myself to be Holden, the protagonist of J.D. Salinger’s The Catcher in the Rye who would visit the Central Park Pond in New York City. Holden’s mission was introspective…Holden would revisit the pond to quench his curiosity about life. Holden wonders where the ducks emigrate to during the wintertime. His curiosity of this phenomenal mystery reveals something much more profound about life. The ducks disappear every winter, but return every spring. In my eyes, the ducks symbolize many aspects in life… Happiness, success, courage, integrity, faith, love, and conviction all come and go just like the ducks do… So when life challenges you by taking away what you hold dear to your heart, know that when the time is right, it will return it to you just like nature returns the ducks back to the pond when the time is right.

Twilight

Twilight is the time between sunset and dusk. It is when there is a clear divergence between the illuminations of the upper atmosphere and lower atmosphere. I had been fortunate enough to experience twilight on the pond. After deciding to get back to blogging, I decided that the pond was what deserved my attention first and foremost. So I packed my camera right after a rainy day to visit the pond right when the sun was about to set. Below are some photos I shot at twilight:

My road bike and the pond

The sky at twilight

The pond and me

The pond's reflection of the landscape around it

There is no doubt that the pond has been one of the highlights of my experiences here in Virginia hitherto. Unfortunately, I will have to bid farewell to the pond as winter approaches, but like the ducks, I shall return during the spring.