Looking out from a trail going to Mt Kosciusko, the highest mountain in Australia, one can get lost even in one's thought. For as far as can be seen with the naked eye, there is only rocks and tussocks of grasses. On closer inspection there are lichens, mosses, many different types of grasses, bushes, flowers, and footprints of animals by the rivulets. Walking off the alpine trail feels wrong like trespassing. I worry about the damage caused from my heavy footprint. In this sensitive habitat one feels awe and respect for life on this earth. Rough cold winds swirl through cloudy landscape where the wiliest of plants and animals fend survival.
As sometimes I find myself stopping and taking note of flowers, rocks and animals, perhaps Wordsworth felt the same when he jotted out his poems. Despite not concurring with his sentiment of romantic nature, but I do feel reverence in human-less environments. His words:
I hear
These waters, rolling from their mountain-springs
With a soft inland murmur. Once again
Do I behold these steep and lofty cliffs,
That on a wild secluded scene impress
Thoughts of more deep seclusion; and connect
The landscape with the quiet of the sky.
The day is come when I again repose
Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey
Life is indeed fragile and beautiful. In mindful homage to my earth I am certain there is more at stake in this world than our comforts, alone.
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