Blinding the World

Closer and closer the people approach like anxious children touching their toes to test the waters. Farther and farther the landscape is beaten back, receding like the tides, growing restless encased by the awaiting mouths of greed. Once noble legions of trees dwindle and scatter with bated breath, unable to stop the rising tide of numerous enemy forces. Droves of caravan’s influx in with workers, looking to find profit in its destruction. The people loom in with their machines annihilating a tapestry of history in one fatal swoop of its cold jaws, wreaking havoc with reckless abandon. In their wake the Earth laid bare, having been turned over reminiscent to tomb robbers of Pharaohs for its

The rain kept on hitting the top of my car as I drove down the old road, like how a woodpecker pecks holes into trees looking for bugs. The town of Tahlequah had really changed since I saw it last about 40 years ago. There were paved roads now and a bigger school. The small shops I remembered were now big Sears and Target stores. Busy people walked on sidewalks trying not to get rained on, and cars drove on, with so many miles to go. As I got farther out and the buildings started to trickle out into countryside, I noticed a new sound that rose above all the rest.

The sun was nowhere to be found the dark clouds combined with ash and smoke blotted out any form of light, destruction was everywhere. Wheat fields were ravaged by fires, and towns were reduced to rubble. The ground that was once dark brown soil was now churned into large masses of mud filled with the stench of death. In the mud trenches and foxholes were dug in which many men inhabited, not by choice but out of pure necessity.

Cool winds, softly touching cheeks with a subtle reminder of their power to caress from chill to cold.

The clearing was quiet, it seemed lifeless. The Salinas River still flowed merrily near the hillside. The water was still warm from the afternoon sun, and still reflected a green hue. On one side of the river, the smooth foothill slopes still curved up to the strong and rocky Gabilan Mountains, and the other side was still lined with trees. The willows and sycamore branches still swung gently in the wind, and the leaves still created a green light within the space. It was totally calm and peaceful… but something was wrong. The air seemed heavier, and the sun seemed dimmer. No animals stirred, and everything seemed to be aware of a deep sadness. Nothing moved save for a small group of men standing around an unmoving figure.

As we started along the trail, I worried about forgotten items and my decision to only bring one extra pair of socks. However, after a while, I became aware of a pair of birds chattering above me and the soft murmur of water trickling down a stream bed. After an hour of walking, the trail starts winding back on itself in a series of switchbacks. The chatter between my family members slows down, as we soon struggled to breathe from exhaustion. Sometimes I was hunched over so far from my load that I would stare at my rubber-toed boots and forget to look up at the majestic trees surrounding me.

I heard it. Beneath the ground, behind the walls I heard it. Echoing screams of sorrow, visions of the dead, a wildfire of disease, a contagious Earth. The scattered debris of humanity’s tallest skyscrapers crumbled in heaps of stone. The splintered glass of humanity’s greatest architectural feats laid scattered in on the roads. The canvas of humanity’s greatest artworks scraped beyond recognition and laid defeated. This was our future. Nothing could’ve prevented it.

The lake darkens as the ominous clouds race across the sky, as black as the devil’s soul, and swallows the bliss-blue complexion of the sky faster than you can blink. The world has abruptly become cellar-dark and the heavens above look to collapse down upon me. A deafening wind runs over the landscape like a thousand horses, the noise of the raindrops their clattering hoofs. The threatening force of the gales knocks and blows the trees in precarious ways, almost as though, if it had wanted to, the wind could blow them away as if they were but feathers, not heavy pines. Lighting lights up the sky like liquid, golden ore streaks being forged into forks up above. Wriggling and writhing with the pain of their own existence. Flashing once, twice, three times, polished and glossy like the cold prongs of the apocalypse. Shaking myself from my weather-caused trance, I hurry for shelter under a nearby fern tree. Staring deep into the blackness of the storm I wonder whether I will ever see that bliss-blue appearance

As he walked past the water he saw what was left of what was once his domain, a ruined memory of what he considered his golden age. Abandoned towers, broken pipes, and beanstalks grown up to great heights, leftovers of a world that he knew and loved, over and gone what once was golden and bronze. Afterthoughts of what was now gone leave him depressed, leaving him angry and sad, something which he would surely lose sleep over. Yet somehow he knew he had it good now, his life wasn't over and gone in a pile. Walking past the shores and the dock on the water, he looked past the bricks, the blocks in a pile. He noticed great items, thrown in the water, fungus and ferns and tossed about the area. These items he once used, he would swallow them whole,

As I thrusted open the wooden doors, refreshingly cool wind blew my hair back. Sunlight surrounded me instantly, and I basked in the glorious sunshine. The blinding sun warmed my body, and I quickly unbuttoned my coat. Just then, the sound of conversations filled the air as people started leaving.

In the northern section of the Lower Peninsula, there were leafless trees and snow flurries. I wished I could make my mind a white snow drift stretching between vacant lots. I wanted to lose my thoughts in the white fields. I wanted my memories to become concealed like the oak branches in a

The reek of death hangs in the air throughout the land. Filling the mouths of those who lived in this abandoned land was the taste of burnt garlic. The screams and cries of terror undistinguishable between beast and human fill the ears of the last ones living. The sky, which was lit by the glow of fires, is grey and empty. Decaying bodies and

Please pause for a moment, and picture in your mind the washed away remnants of what used to be a seemingly insignificant city; it is rather difficult to recognize from all the earthquake rubble and debris that there once was a town here. Bits and pieces of what used to be homes are now scattered from one end of the view to the other. A gloomy haze of dust, smoke and ash have recently enveloped over the entire countryside. Sounds of screaming, yelling and crying are bombarding one’s hearing senses; a smell of unbelievable human decaying stench is so overwhelming, the odors stimulate the gag reflex and tear ducts to produce endless retching and a cleansing wash of foul air from one’s eyes. Hungry ownerless dogs are fighting over dead infant

The sun was glistening through the tall, swaying pines. To the right of the trail, a gentle river flowed softly down towards the mouth of the lake. Walking across the rickety wooden bridge, I inhaled a deep breath of refreshingly crisp mountain air. The sun beat down on me as I made my way across the bridge and back onto the well-used hiking trail. The ambient sounds of chirping birds, babbling water, and the croaks of several frogs filled my ears as I made my way around the bend. As I entered the mouth of the forest, I could see my father standing in the middle of the path, glancing upwards, taking in the beauty that had began to engulf us. “We better get going.” he said, looking back at me. “There’s still many miles to go.” I smiled and turned, taking in one last view of the beautiful creekside. Then, with determination, we set out to finish the challenging trek we had started.

Yet were being held down, giving a silent rhapsody of joy and grieving. Along the way fallen timber accompanied thickets of weeds. A lazy mist hazed my vision, making the horizon seem like one from a story book. The area was imperturbable, as if it was keeping a secret hidden deep within itself.