Nature

Nature rarely presents us with the sublime - feelings of delight and terror interwoven in astonishing beauty - that Kant and Romantics to come, so fondly ascribe to it. And that is not at all to deny it's great power and majesty, but to affirm that far from grand gestures of stormy sea and northern lights, what is so wonderful about nature (and I mean it in the literal sense) lies in its subtlety. The intricacy of its patterns, richness of its colours, complexity of its systems all contained in each unfurling frond. Nature is majestic because it is life. By noticing its movements and interconnections, we come to know both it and ourselves as part of the universal consciousness. We stop closing our eyes as the fast-paced façade of the world so encourages: tiring us out, forcing rest in the form of blind sleep only to regain the energy that world feeds on. Nature cares not for this system, but does too feel its destructive effects. To even begin to care for it - as the very word 'care' reveals to us - is to pay attention.

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