Aim Skyward

Now is a fine time to see history grown over, the slow steal of space back by what knows only living. In times when life seems so hard for me, harder than I ever imagined it being, I sense a safety in watching nature act out a sort of proof. Reminder that we're successful sometimes in just existing, breathing, surviving. The gulf between survival and success is so massive that it doesn't bare the strain of worry so well. Lucky for nature it can't imagine the future. That small evergreen struggling out of concrete and stone will surely die young. But all it can do till then is aim skyward, absorb nutrients, shed needles and grow new ones. I've often grown tired of trying. But hope has a hold on me, so I'll wake the next morning believing. I've found apathy to be somewhat more draining than the effort of trying. It's easier if I sleep well and smile away the weight.

June 22, 2025
Deep Brook, Nova Scotia

Year 18, Day 6433 of my daily journal.