Read it, or don't.
The Number Three
When I was a child, there was a small wooded area behind my home, and in that area was a medow. This medow was popular for the local children, and the trees that lined it all had tree fort in various states of disrepair. There were often animals in and around the clearing, but the one I remember most was a hawk whose nest was in the tallest tree. I remember when I would hide in the clearing, the only place I could escape the lies that have always been my life. I'd lay in the grass and stare up into the sky, watching as clouds would drift by. Occasionally the hawk would fly around, circling and looking for food. I used to imagine myself as the hawk, wondering what it would be like to soar so high up that the whole world seemed like a quilt. Sometimes I could feel the wind rushing around me, and for brief moments experience the true silence of being so high up. I never truly knew what the sky was like for the hawk, not for many years.
One day a local kid fell out of one of the older tree forts. That was to be the end of the clearing, the parents protested and the city coucil had the woods torn down. I park was built in it's place, but the space no longer seemed the same. There was no privacy, the homes that had previously been hidden could know see and be seen. The quiet vanished along with the privacy, and just like that the refuge I had once depended on was gone. The worst part was the loss of the hawk. When the woods were cleared away, it's home was destroyed and it had no reason to return.
It wasn't until years later that I was able to experience what it was like to float so high up in the air. I was given a trip in a hot air balloon and spent an hour floating, nearly alone, up in the air. I looked down at a world of hustle and worry. The city was quiet, and still. So high up I could barely see the cars drive by, and people seemed smaller than ants. Out past the city the world stretched on forever a vast green canvas of fields, and thick fluffy chunks of forest dotted the landscape. I was amazed at the silence, only slightly broken up by the roar of the balloons burner. That silence was the world to me, silence always has been. The world is full of noise, voices, problems, worry; but up there in the air, away from it all silence prevailed.
In that silence, alone, and away from the world I wept. I let loose a lifetime of emotion that I had always kept well contained. Up there in the silence of being removed from the world, I unburdened myself of my troubles, knowing full well that sooner or later I'd have to return to the world below. I thought back to the clearing, to the times I spent soaring through my imagination, to when I could invision myself floating on wings that held the air. The experience completed my imagination, and even after it was over I could still return back to the sky, to a place I could go to escape the noise of the world around me. I had a place I could go when the world grew so big that it overwhelmed, a place I could go to find the quiet I so desperatly crave.
Up in the air the world seemed so small, so utterly insignifigant that all my worries seemed trivial. Little did I understand that the piece of land that went on forever and seemed so vast was actually as small and insignifigant as my youthfull worries. That trip changed my perspective, it gave me a new outlook that has defined how I saw the world. I'll always remember the balloon ride, and the hawk that flew so close to my childhood. The world changes, and there is always noise to be heard; so when the world gets too loud, just spread your wings and escape to the silence beyond your problems. Float in the sky, unburden yourself, and when you return remember no matter how big your problems are, the world is that much bigger and more.
One day a local kid fell out of one of the older tree forts. That was to be the end of the clearing, the parents protested and the city coucil had the woods torn down. I park was built in it's place, but the space no longer seemed the same. There was no privacy, the homes that had previously been hidden could know see and be seen. The quiet vanished along with the privacy, and just like that the refuge I had once depended on was gone. The worst part was the loss of the hawk. When the woods were cleared away, it's home was destroyed and it had no reason to return.
It wasn't until years later that I was able to experience what it was like to float so high up in the air. I was given a trip in a hot air balloon and spent an hour floating, nearly alone, up in the air. I looked down at a world of hustle and worry. The city was quiet, and still. So high up I could barely see the cars drive by, and people seemed smaller than ants. Out past the city the world stretched on forever a vast green canvas of fields, and thick fluffy chunks of forest dotted the landscape. I was amazed at the silence, only slightly broken up by the roar of the balloons burner. That silence was the world to me, silence always has been. The world is full of noise, voices, problems, worry; but up there in the air, away from it all silence prevailed.
In that silence, alone, and away from the world I wept. I let loose a lifetime of emotion that I had always kept well contained. Up there in the silence of being removed from the world, I unburdened myself of my troubles, knowing full well that sooner or later I'd have to return to the world below. I thought back to the clearing, to the times I spent soaring through my imagination, to when I could invision myself floating on wings that held the air. The experience completed my imagination, and even after it was over I could still return back to the sky, to a place I could go to escape the noise of the world around me. I had a place I could go when the world grew so big that it overwhelmed, a place I could go to find the quiet I so desperatly crave.
Up in the air the world seemed so small, so utterly insignifigant that all my worries seemed trivial. Little did I understand that the piece of land that went on forever and seemed so vast was actually as small and insignifigant as my youthfull worries. That trip changed my perspective, it gave me a new outlook that has defined how I saw the world. I'll always remember the balloon ride, and the hawk that flew so close to my childhood. The world changes, and there is always noise to be heard; so when the world gets too loud, just spread your wings and escape to the silence beyond your problems. Float in the sky, unburden yourself, and when you return remember no matter how big your problems are, the world is that much bigger and more.
