| REFLECTIONS ON A WINTER'S NIGHT Paul W. Cinnamon 1-19-93 The red-orange flicker of the flames from the burning logs in the fireplace cast their magical spell, as outside the winter storm vents it's raging fury against a world grown accustomed to a milder climate. The warmth of the fire, crackling and hissing, the soft, soothing, yet pungent odor of the wood smoke, wafting quietly up the chimney, sets my mind free to wander and wonder at the mysterious forces of nature at work today as in all the past ages and eons of time. Consider the interaction of these relentless, ofttimes violent forces working with and against one another to create the delicate balance so necessary to sustain life upon this, our island planet; itself drifting swiftly through a universe whose bounds are to us yet unknown. Are we the most intelligent forms of life present in this universe? If so, then why do we seem to also be the most destructive? Too often we seem intent upon obliterating complete ecosystems, whole species of wildlife, poisoning the same water and atmosphere upon which we, and our generations yet unborn, must depend for sustenance of life. As we quickly pass through this our short span of time, we are briefly charged with the responsibilities of managing, perpetuating, and nurturing these great systems of nature. Should we not interact with them in such a manner as to create the least impact, consuming only that which is needed, being ever mindful of our actions lest we damage or destroy unnecessarily, or through our careless or thoughtless behavior? Perhaps the best epitaph that one could hope for would state, "He dwelt quietly and gently upon this earth, and left it no worse than he found it". A log in the fireplace, once part of a healthy, young, sturdy tree, yet now all but consumed by age, insects, disease, and now the fire, collapses, sending out a shower of flashing, snapping, beautiful, golden sparks and reminding me of the timeless need and dependence of mankind to tend the fire. Author's Note: This story was written In 1993, but because of concern that the intent and meaning of it might be misconstrued as an indication that I was in sympathy with the radical fringe of environmental activists and "treehuggers", I concurred in withholding it from publication. As a lifelong farmer, I do realize that for a few short years I share some dominion over a very minute portion of this planet Earth, and I conscientiously strive to minimize any negative effects caused by my meager efforts to assist In providing food for those multitudes who through choice or chance must concentrate their energies in other directions to make this a habitable and hospitable planet on which we all must live. |