A CHANGE OF SCENERY - The Last Page of His Book
He was never one with nature; he never wished to be one with nature. But the splendor and serenity of the snow-covered trees in the pale moonlight touched the very core of his heart. He edged his way to a bush where the snowflakes glistened like little crystals on the boughs. He knew if he touched them they would be spoilt but he was overwhelmed by the beauty of them. So he touched them. He slowly lifted his finger to his eyes to see the snowflakes, and for a moment, they remained undamaged. Then the warmth of his finger took care of the snow, and he watched with regret as the flakes melted away. It was like everything in his life. Everything he touched he destroyed. Everything he ever found entrancing he destructed. He was a force of nature, the annihilating counterpart to everything that was alive. There was a time when he was convinced that he must be that force, for the phoenix to rise from the ashes, for death to come before birth. But there was also a decade in his life when he didn’t feel that way. A decade where his kids were born and where he helped his country to be the country of a great nation it always should have been and always should be.
And then he saw her. She was clad in white. He never saw her in white. Not even in her wedding photos. His mind was flooded with clichés. He felt like his heart skipped a beat, and he had to remind himself to breath. And his mind was still with clichéd. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much, but somehow it didn’t seem appropriate to think in clichés when it came to her.
He never thought she was pretty. She was beautiful in her own way, but never a pretty face. She had grace and poise but those were not the only things he noticed about her. She was witty, fun to talk to and on her best days she was a fantasy came true. And on her worst she was the partner to his destructive force.
He stood there in the shadow of the trees, watching her slim form slowly move around in the moonlight. He realized she was dancing to an unearthly tune. And she looked like she was worshipping nature. Finally, she sank to her knees and scooped up a handful of snow. She brought her palms full of the white material to her nose and inhaled deeply. He felt a tug at his heart, he wanted to join her but he wasn’t sure he was ready to make her aware of his presence and he wasn’t sure whether he should disturb this private moment. Her private moment. And then she lied down, burying her face into the snow. And in front of his eyes she became one with nature.
She was once named Flamingo, but he never thought that particular bird as fitting. Sure, she was tall, and sure she had a long neck, but he never thought of her like a flamingo. She knew what she was, she had self-confidence. But she was never conceited, she was never a showoff. She was a swan. He didn’t know why but he always thought swans were creatures of both sides: dark and light. They existed in that zone that was neither here nor there. They were proud, they were light but usually they were enveloped in an air of deep, ineluctable sadness. And her neck was beautiful, not ridiculous like a flamingo’s but painstakingly perfect like a swan’s. And for the first time in a decade, he didn’t felt shame for marveling at her neck. For the first time in a decade, he was allowed to take in its beauty. And for the first time in a decade, he accepted that he did. And then he couldn’t bear it anymore. He slowly withdrew himself and left her on that clearing where she became a part of nature.
But he went back the day after. And she was there again. It was past midnight, and the moon was bright. He didn’t want to taint her moment so he remained in the shadows again, but he noticed something in her posture, something in the way she carried herself. There was a shift compared to her state of the previous night. Maybe it was the moon, it didn’t clad the little clearing in that mysterious light again; no, it was bright and everything seemed to be so vivid. And dazzling. And then he catalogued her appearance once again. He catalogued the differences. She had a red coat and she wore a bright smile. Maybe that was the real reason he perceived the shift. She was no longer a creature of both sides. She decided to cross over to the other side, to the side where he couldn’t reach her anymore. He felt a sense of loss. He was overpowered by it. Why, he didn’t want to know, or rather he didn’t want know consciously. Because he knew, deep in his soul he knew why he felt that way.
He knew he shouldn’t have come back but he was never able to withstand her allure. When did she become aware of his presence, he didn’t know. But she called out his name, first tentatively and then with elation. He considered fleeing back into the shadows but he was never able to withstand her allure. So he came forward and met her halfway. She reached out her hand, touching his face as if she was making sure that he was really there. He murmured something inaudible but he knew that she would understand him nonetheless. And she did. Then she opened her arms, and he was caught in her embrace. He didn’t know what to do with his own hands. For he was painfully aware of the crossroads he arrived at. And he knew that once he allowed her to draw him over to her side there was no coming back.
But was he ready to take that first step, knowing that he had to fight his very being to be able to stand on that side for the rest of his life?
And then a sudden image flared up in his mind and it was forever burnt into his brain. She was dancing in the snow with his children. And then he knew that he was ready to be a force of nature: the constructive energy that forced the world to reach out for new heights, to rise over them to create new challenges to overcome. And for the second time in his life he truly felt elated. He encircled her waist and drew her closer to himself until she and him became one existence and they became a essential part of nature.
GO TO PART NINE