Upon the hill, the view is all encompassing. Taking in the many different ways that humans have of getting from one place to another. Her angst was thick. Frustration rising inside that seemed to not want to quit. The view of the sea was so carved up by the presence of industry that it made her weep. Where were the gentle waves lapping upon the yielding sands? Where were the unassuming sailboats gliding tenderly over the waves? The days were different. Filled with cold hard concrete that soiled her soul. she longed for a time when she will be able to enjoy creation without the overpowering mark of the human being. When a tree was seen as a part of a forest, not as dollar bills made sticky by the grubby hands of materialism. The day when humanity’s presence will be a contribution to the world not a blight upon it.
Putting her phone back in her purse, she turned and there saw, one single wildflower growing amidst the citified landscape. A purple flower reaching for the light in all its midday glory. If there were such things as signs, this surely was one. Her heart filled with hope and trust.
© Carol Campbell
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