A Lesson From Nature by: Sarvessh Senthamarai Kannan

 A Lesson From Nature

by: Sarvessh Senthamarai Kannan

Coming off a 4 hour drive, the immediate thought of a nature hike resulted in exhaustive “no”

from my brain. “Watkins Glen,” my mother said. “Me and your father came here when you and

your sister were barely of the age to talk.” I forced a smile, hoping to cover my happiness at not

going with them. As the car rolled across the road as it did for the past 4 hours, I spotted a sign

“Visitor Center: Watkins Glen.” Me and my sister were super annoyed, for the past two days, we

had been stuck in a boring old national park. At tops, all we expected was an ice cream on the

way back. However, our parents had pulled out the dark bunny out of the hat.

“The scene at the top is amazing,” my mother insisted.

Me and my sister just accepted our fate as we slapped our sunscreen onto our faces. As soon

as we stepped in, I could not help but notice the insane amount of stairs leading up to one of the

four main water falls. I felt a slight change in the perception of this place.

Still, I refused the positive change. This place sucks, no thrill, no excitement.

Along the path, I noticed a very fast river, skimming past rocks and vegetation. It seemed

content, almost as if it was just accepting the tide of the water and the direction of the wind. The

change felt meaningful, the key to the lock of peace.

Further down the trail, my sister noticed a peculiar sighting, “Brother look, its curved tree.”

I looked closer, in the midst of all the green giants, a skinny sturdy tree slowly peeked out of two

heavy boulders. It looked like the survival of the fittest, a fight to do what it took to satisfy the

hunger and determination to grow. It reminded me of the time I was riding my bicycle with my

friends. Unaware of my flat tire, I accelerated down the hill at full speed, ready to make a sharp

left on the bottom. But as fate would have it, my front loosened a smidge, just enough to send

my bike into a 90 degree flop. I recalled my friends telling me, “I saw you tumble into the

sidewalk like you were ice skating.” I struggled to get my spine straight, as a huge scar under

my shirt revealed itself. To make matters worse, my leg had gotten severely damaged, blood

gushing from within. However, I refused to stay handicapped over the next 3 months, a time

where the doctor stated, “No physical activity.” However, while still in bed, I sharpened my chess

skills, shot laundry into the basket, and even read new genres of books that I would have never

read while being fully able. The connection between my old life and the determined tree gave

me a lesson from nature itself, one that would never erode or weather through rain nor wind. By

the time the trail was over, my once exhaustive and rejective brain had a basket full of new

lessons, lessons that would eventually become a life lesson. This experience taught me to

accept things as they come. It indirectly taught me to mold myself into a situation instead of

complaining.