Venture 2, The Fly | Melissa Erickson

It was hot. Not as beastly as some days, but still hot nonetheless. Beauty was everywhere, and we were to spend a rare moment of appreciation for the exquisiteness surrounding us. It truly was breathtaking. I walked along the pebbled pathway and found a small, secluded area under the shade of a leafy tree. It was cooler under there, and I sat down to observe the nature around me. Birds chirped, bushes rustled, mountains towered; it was incredible. A small buzzing filled my ear. Under the mindset of admiring all of Mother Nature’s children, the small buzzing in my ear was like a masterpiece for me. I listened for a moment, and gave the small fly a chance to sing its melody before gently swatting it away. Seconds later, it came back. Not yet annoyed, I kindly guided it away. I again tried to focus until the little demon came back a split moment later. He landed on my wrist, and began the long climb up my arm. He was tiny, and his microscopic legs tickled my skin as he maneuvered his way across it.

Looking closely, I could see his eyes; giant compared to the rest of him proportionately, anyway. His tiny wings fluttered as he gave up on his hike, and instead flew up to my shoulder. Agitated now, I flicked him away, only to have him return yet again. More violent this time, I angrily swatted at him, hoping to send the subtle message: “Leave me alone dangit! Don’t you understand that I’m trying to find an appreciation for nature?! Go away! I hate you!”

He seemed to understand for a fraction of a minute; but only that. Again he returned, now the only purpose in his short, measly little life to annoy the hell out of me. Not only that, but within his last departure, he rounded up all of his other buzzing little friends who came to crawl in my ear, across my forehead, and down my arms. This was ridiculous. The buzzing that was once harmonic now morphed into an obnoxious roar. Each miniature insect had looked very similar to the fly I had become acquainted with in the beginning. Small round bodies, tiny skinny legs, buzzing wings, and giant eyes, they all swarmed around me, distracting me from my purpose of enjoying the wonders around me.

Finally, it was time to go. With once happy, turned homicidal thoughts, I set out down the pebbled path lined with bushes, flowers, and trees. Our task was to appreciate nature. It had been a very productive experience.

Venture 2, The Flowered Bush | Melissa Erickson

Against the clear backdrop of the blue sky, the yellow-flowered bush rustled and swayed with the slight breeze passing through. It had a faint, flowery scent that was carried through the air with the wind. Always dancing, always moving, the plant seemed to tease the other shrubbery near it, leaning deep to one side, then snapping abruptly back up again, only to tilt the opposite direction; playing and laughing. It seemed to have a mind of its own; however it was only the puffs of air controlling its every move. Without a care in the world, the bush seemed so unique, so care-free.

There were a number of them, actually. Several yellow-flowered bushes lined the windy dirt pathway; however each was its own. Each plant seemed to have its own personality, and some looked to have not noticed any of the others. Some reached out to neighboring shrubs and weeds, while others spread their branches out to the sun. A lone, solitary bush did not swing as much as the others, smaller and moodier, in addition to further down the path where an extremely popular bush swayed and socialized with the many that grew beside it.

The breeze died down, and with it, so did the many flowered bushes. Without the aid of their gusting friend, they lost the urge to dance and play. For a moment the air was calm, along with the nature within it. However, it was only a moment. Seconds later, the breeze picked up again, and the games began again.

Venture 2, The Mountain | Melissa Erickson

It was breathtaking. The red rock extended upward, gracing the sky with its edged tip; its sides dotted with green shrubs and trees. A large white truck drove past, however its huge size was completely dwarfed just by the base of the mountain alone. There are times when a person can feel on top of the world; that there’s nothing bigger. However, watching that mountain and everything it towered over made me feel almost insignificant.

Whenever I saw a mountain, or even a hill, I never stopped to think or appreciate it. But when I actually took time to realize and understand the true beauty of its magnitude, it was incredible. Everything within reach of its very shadow was so minute; even things that we normally think of as quite large, such as a tree or the white truck that drove by.

Not only was its size remarkable, but the fact that it took thousands of years for it to take on the form it now possesses. Each rock and crevice has taken centuries to be sculpted, but it is not, and never will be, finished with its artistry. Ten, twenty, or even a hundred years from now, it will still be changing, shifting, altering; never satisfied for even a moment, and always finding ways to improve. We can come back year after year; finding new additions such as trees or shrubs, and even find a rockslide changed the look of the cliff completely.
It stands tall, reaching upward to embrace the clear blue sky. Silent and proud, the immense mountain will never remain the same, always changing, shifting, and altering…