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I was walking through a land which was cleared recently out of its bush for cultivation. The bush was once consisted of tall trees, under growth, and vanes that held it all tight. Now, the trees lie flat on the ground, under growth is chopped up, and vanes aren’t holding anything tight any more. Although, there was a bright Purple flower that caught my eye. It was beautiful, not because of its charm; rather due to its aliveness among the lethargic. It is a vane called “Boo Ma” that managed to survive the carnage.
This certain vane seems to have no remorse, no complaints or no agony about its situation. It is simply doing what it suppose to be doing, and for it, it was the time to blossom. With this realisation as I looked around I could see life leaping out from the dead. Ants are walking in lines again, certain birds are searching through the branches for fresh warms, and the grass is growing green on the naked soil. Nature continues on ever so silently.
It had made me to wonder… Is everything we complain about so passionately so often really worth a complaint?
"The magic is in the doing
Not the thinking, reading
Talking or listening about
But in the get down hands dirty
Shirt off doing."
by Heather Saunders
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