Awakening

Insightful Story: Awakening

 

As the Waitakere Ranges awaken, Hosh wonders if it isn’t the love we feel that makes us notice serenity & observe the wonder around us?

Previous Story: Auf Wiedersehen. Good Bye!

Hosh lay under a blanket of glistening stars. The birds slept. The sun had not yet awakened.

A cool breeze gently touched his cheeks. Uneasiness in the leaves suggested a silent conversation amongst them.

In the lofty foliage of tall deep-rooted trees, they whispered silently to each other: "Shhh. Shhh. Shhh!”

The Waitakere ranges were silent. Asleep. The downcast grass was rolled up into a carpet covering the soil, as if snuggled up in the warm stillness.

Silence engulfed him. Only a soft subtle humming drifted across the grassland from a nearby tea-tree bush.

A few crickets lay nestled in the leaves. Hidden, despite the soft moonlight.

Beside him, stood a towering man. Light grey smoke slowly escaped from his lips. The man had a clean-shaven face with a crop of short black hair.

His innocent brown eyes gazed at the horizon. His firm, yet relaxed chest, moved each time he breathed. In and out. In and out.

He lifted the smoldering cigarette to his mouth, took another puff, and blew the silvery streaks of smoke away from him. His mere presence radiated a tender gentleness. Hosh lay there, bathing in it, not noticing the flight of time.

The cloudless blue sheet above them began to sparkle with orange hues, as the sun climbed into the sky. It was cozy. Affectionate. Rainbows of birds were strung across the sky now. They chirped excitedly as they swooped down from the sky and danced on the arms of the now-quiet trees.

The apple-trees bowed humbly, offering their bright-red, juicy fruit to the earth beneath them. Proud hills in the background towered behind them protectively, dominating the landscape.

Beads of dew slowly rolled down from the now-upstanding grass. Their sharp blades reflected the sunlight onto the nearby bush, which was motionless. Quiet.

Crickets hopped happily into the small crevices under the thick bush leaves. The man beside Hosh flicked the cigarette butt into the grass. In what seemed like slow motion, he turned his head to look at Hosh. And smiled.

“I love you son," he whispered.

Hosh smiled back at him, and nodded. He knew it already.

Isn’t it the love we feel, that makes us notice serenity, and observe the wonder around us? What do we see around us when we are depressed?

He loved his father too. And he knew, that Rosh knew that too.

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