#erawon

I just made myself crack up.

Cause, you can’t just hit me with Perth’s neck like this and expect me not to recognise him immediately.

This post is a bit different than my last posts.. I know it's kind of long, but I really hope that you read it. I put a little piece of me in it. Enjoy. :)

There is absolutely NOTHING more gratifying than the euphoria you feel after a long, moderately challenging hike. The rush and sensation is so great, there is a moment when you feel like the greatest being alive. I'm not sure if nature leaves something with you or if you leave a part of your soul with nature...probably a little of both. How does one describe the beauty or the feeling? Walking barefoot amongst waterfalls is one of the most cathartic feelings of my life. Thinking about the struggles I've faced or the culture shock I've experienced recently was rushed away the higher I climbed. The cool whisking water was like a balm to both my physical and mental pains. Being in nature is like a drug to me. I get desperate and itchy, sad and lonely without it. I am an addict that craves more every time I have it.

One of the most basic--yet my least favorite--question is, "What is your favorite color?" My mind goes blank as I try to come up with a response. It's the color of the sky at any given point of the day, from the neon orange sunrises to the crystal blue cloudless sky or the cotton candy sunsets to the indigo of the night sky. It's the shade of green when the sunlight illuminates the leaves of trees or the burst of yellow from a basking sunflower. It's the soft, sweet lavender from the blooming Morning Glory's against the salt and pepper sand or the crimson red of a fresh cut rose. This world would be devoid of color should there be no forest, mountains, or beaches to discover. I would be lost without my sense of sight. The colors of nature are sweet melodies in my head, with their own sounds, rhythms, and pitches. Depsite the quietness, nature practically shouts at you to look around, see what it has to offer.

This solo trip has grounded me more than ever and has been the reprieve I needed to refocus and enjoy my time in this foreign environment. This year I turn 25, a quarter of a century old. Seeing trees that are probably close to 3 centuries old puts the concept of time into perspective for me. Time is irrelevant, a man made concept that we can't ever seem to "unforget".  Trees are wise and they know many secrets. They've been around since the beginning of time and before. If I live my life based on experiences and the knowledge I've gained, I will be fulfilled instead of upset by my rate of decay. It should never be a question of how old are you, it should be a question of what have you done so far?