Pretty Trees - Nov 20 2022

 

Pretty Trees

Nov 20 2022

The swamp, once the fog lifted

was even more dismal.

Thickets of dense vegetation

that claw at your legs

as you force your way through.

Fine silky spider webs

invisibly brushing your face.

And the broken stumps of scrawny trees

sticking out above the greenery,

their jagged ends

like reminders of mortality.

Soggy ground you sink in

and patches of sulphurous mud,

pools of standing water

stagnant with scum.

And as you draw closer

a deafening chorus of frogs,

birdsong

that sounds truly exotic

because they live only here.

And eventually, where the ground is lowest

the actual swamp,

that could just as well be bottomless

because you'd never set foot.

This is not the nature

you see on postcards;

the conventional aesthetic

we all find so appealing,

the replenishing sense

of purity

beauty

and spiritual renewal.

But the swamp, a jewel within a jewel

is how it really is

behind the palisade

of pretty trees;

not much to look at, at first,

but rich with diversity

resilience

life.

A different kind of beauty

that takes work.

That, like all high art

the avant garde

and hard complicated concepts,

takes time

and thought

and the cultivation of knowledge

to appreciate.

I think of the pretty girl

who instantly stands out.

Who, in a few years

no one will notice anymore.

And the late bloomer,

the beautiful woman

who emerges at a later age

but whose beauty will endure.

You could have seen it early

if you'd taken the time

to really look,

put in the work

of getting to know her well.

Perhaps unconventional in appearance,

but still

easy on the eyes.

And with a mature woman's

sophistication

grace

and depth.

At the risk of being ungentlemanly

I can't help

this comparison coming to mind.

Not the jewel

you thought you’d find,

but were lucky enough

to stumble across.

And not at all dismal;

instead, like the swamp

complicated,

interesting,

and teeming with life.