The sky is a deep cerulean as the afternoon sun shines brightly on the top of my head, warming my black hair so much that little beads of sweat trickle down my forehead. I’m sweaty, I’m sticky, and I’m smelly. But I don’t mind. Birds fly over my head, chirping joyously as they flutter around each other. My boots squelch under the mud of a freshly rained field as I peer into a puddle. There is no one here except me and the field. I am happy. I am alone. I am home.
My obsession with nature began when I was in elementary school. During recess, instead of playing tag with my friends, I would run to our school’s butterfly garden and marvel at the micro flora and fauna that dwelled within our school grounds. The vibrant greens, yellows, and blacks that striped monarch caterpillars, and the way that the sticky sap oozed out of milkweed plants never ceased to amaze me. There was seldom a time when I didn’t have to wash my hands after recess because my nails were so dirty from digging in the mud to look for grubs. Time glazed over me as I became entrenched into the magic little world that was the Barrington Place Butterfly Garden.
As I grew up, the deep cerulean skies that I had come to endear so intensely as a child turned cloudy and gray. More homework and more responsibilities meant less time outside and more time studying inside. The beloved butterfly garden that sat so snug in the middle of my old school field started to fade from my perspective as I moved from elementary to middle school. In time, the butterfly garden disappeared altogether, literally. Now, all that is left in the field is a small wooden outline that once separated the butterfly garden from the rest of the world. Mybutterfly garden.
Every once in a while, I am reminded of the breathtaking splendor that hides in the lush sea of green surrounding us. A week ago, my friend and I went to our neighborhood field. Once again, I was welcomed back to a lush Eden that had closed its doors on me. The smell of petrichor filled my nose as I bent down to feel the moist loamy soil crumble in my hands. The sounds of buzzing bees and chirping crickets were all I could hear as I trotted through the muddy grass. The sun shone brightly on my skin, now red from being out for so long. My white leather shoes were now brown, but that was the least of my worries. I took it all in: the sun, the earth, the sky, the insects, everything, and I remembered.
I remember the tantalizing beauty that captivated my younger self as I look upon a vast field of green. Bright orange monarchs zip past my face as I try to catch them to no avail. Stones teem with little pill bugs as I turn them over, and light breezes fill my nose with the scent of sweet pollen. There seems to be an infinite amount of possibilities out here. The outdoor beckons me to be explored, and I defer.