Friday, June 02, 2006
Fields
They have cut me up into their convenient squares, have rolled me over with their loud rickety industrial machines and chemical sprinklers, trampled upon my battered hide so that it is now marked with all manner of cracks and abrasions. To cap it all off the intense rays of a harsh sun also beat unrelentingly down upon my dry baked skin as I lie in wait hoping for it to end. like the weather it must pass and go away. Only a matter of time now.
I keep saying to myself, reassuring myself that this is just passing phase, just a temporary altercation. This plague will die away and be replaced by a more benevolent occupier; the land will go back perhaps to how it was before when there were forests, gullies, large hawks and giant dinosaurs that wandered around and stamped reasuringly upon me. Let the ants take over that’s what I say, that’s what I say, or the trees or the vegetation.
You can rest assured that there is no death in me, I will merely change and morph into other forms along with the environment. You see I have that ability, I know what I will be like in the future, like stone or like sand and then I will be able to cruise down through the mountains again like once before. I know these things. Of these things I am certain; because the whole thing repeats itself.
The occupiers sometimes forget that I have lain here for thousands of years. Layers of peat and earth having gradually engulfed me, pressed me down further and further, flattened to form a layer at the point where I now lie. I have decided that I must deny the present and try to think more of the future. I will try to think that it is for the best that this has happened. I do not bear grudges. In the thousands of year that it has taken for this world to form me whole species have evolved and died away. The planet can get restless sometimes, whose logic is beyond every species that have ever lived upon it. The only thing that I can rely on is the fact that things will change and carry on changing for time eternity, which is the only saving grace.
They have slain me and dug me, then rolled me over and over, reworking my de-forested soil. They have chemically enhanced me; have plagued my arching back with tons upon tons of poison thrown from planes. Could they not leave me fallow at least and leave alone my friends the insects and familiar habitations nearby that over the years I have come to be like friends to me, just take me, leave them. They have suffered; the worms, the centipedes, the beetles and the grasshoppers that travel through me, in me and over me, keeping me irrigated and ventilated. The plants seek their darkness, spearing through me, pushing me further down, sucking at my residues, nitrifying my soil, what could I do without them.
