There is a place of rarefied air where the pine cones dangle, untouched by human hands, unbothered by human hearts, unfettered by human bonds, and even the human eyes that bear witness from afar cannot truly reach these ornaments of nature. Not in time anyway, not before they can do their best to disperse the next generation of hope. Against the bluest winter sky, because some winter days still afford a backdrop of blue, the pine tree soars splendidly into spires of perfect form.
I’ve often wondered at these places we will never reach. So much of our planet is like this, yet we seem to not understand the humility of such circumstances. No one wants to believe they are so small, so insignificant. We still hold onto the idea that one person can truly change the world. And who knows, maybe one person can. But the vast majority of us won’t come near to making such cosmic noise. No matter how much we yell. No matter how dangerously we destroy. No matter how many people we love.
I think of my Astronomy professor at such times of rumination, he of the ‘Custom Slaughtering;’ sign on his office door, the one right next to the ‘Until Morale Improves, the Beatings Will Continue’ sign. Like certain serious scientists, he seemed to have a philosophical take on the world, coming as it did from the point of view who regularly considered our microcosmic place in the universe. Eschewing fashion completely, and even cleanliness to a certain extent, he seemed perfectly content to merely exist, as if he knew the secret to living the best life wasn’t in making meaning of anything, but rather of realizing that there was no meaning in any of it, so why bother with the nonsense? Whenever I find myself getting bogged down in the details and minutiae of life, I think back to his wild hair and ratty garments, and I understand that our time here is too short to be bothered. Strange, coming from me. My whole life seems the antithesis of that. And it’s cool if you believe that.
I’m going to float up to those pinecones and ask them what they know, what they’ve seen. It’s more than me. It’s more than all of us. If I were them, I’d never tell.
