Genesis

 

The young man steps onto the trail. He pats the left pocket of his khaki shirt checking that his pipe, tobacco and lighter are in their usual place. He deftly swings the binocular strap  around his neck and sets off. 

He marvels at how long his strides are. There is a new spring in his step, or rather an old spring in his step, he delights in its return. He knows that if he needs to run, he can run. A smile spreads across his face, a gentle, shy smile. 

He walks the meandering path with purpose. As the reality of this new world settles around him he notices that everything around him is so much more vibrant and alive. The trees pulse with life and chlorophyll, he can almost feel the rhythm of life being sucked up from the nurturing ground, through the roots and out into the canopy above him. Here even the trees have a spirit.  

And here the rocks tell their stories too. Stories he's been trained to read and yet now they echo with such clarity that he is able to watch the onset of genesis in their very strata. 

And the birds! Oh the birds! His eyes and ears are almost overwhelmed by the sheer vastness of colour, call and wing. From tiny small undergrowth scuttlers to soaring raptors this place is a treasure hunt of birds. 

As the path unwinds before him and swathes of veld, and rivers, and forests and mountains reveal themselves to him they burst with every imaginable creature. It would take him an eternity to take it all in, fortunately he has time. 

As he walks and explores and observes he is aware of a gentle presence beside him. It's one he's always known, deeply familiar. It is also one he always felt closest to when he was exploring wild places in the past. He doesn’t need to look to know who it is, but the smile returns to his face, all is well with his soul.