Lauren vs. Nature

Today has been perfect. Well, almost.

The weather changed overnight from yesterday's dark, gloomy, and rainy to today's cool breeze and sunny skies. I was thrilled. I decided to walk to the lake by my house, hoping to find inspiration for my 366 project. After packing my cameras up, I started my journey.

The lake was buzzing with excitement. Birds chirped carelessly at one another while sitting perched high upon the trees. The ducks quacked in agreement while waddling in and out of the water. They were very indecisive. I took a bunch of pictures initially of the ducks. They weren't scared of me, so I got some nice close ups. That was, until papa duck waddled by, quacking loudly. I figured that was my cue to move on.

I walked on the trail for a bit and looked out into the water. It was perfectly clear and slowly moving. It looked beautiful. I decided to walk right up to the water and sit down. At that moment I felt perfectly content. The wind was blowing gently and the ducks quacked a song. The water lapped in unison and the birds flew on by. I was all alone with no distractions--no cell phone, book, journal. It was just me. And I was okay.

I saw two kids throwing bread at the ducks across the lake while their parents acted enthusiastically every time the bread was scooped up. I remembered feeding ducks and the excitement that it brought. I wished it was all still that simple. I saw an elderly woman sitting not far from me staring out into the water. It looked like she came there often, that she claimed the bench she sat on. She looked thoughtful, like she wasn't actually looking at the lake, but looking through it. I knew how she felt.

I decided to take a moment and reflect on everything that had happened this past month. All of the emotions I went through--the highs and the lows. The good times and bad. I wanted to let it all out. I wanted to mourn one last time, so I didn't have to carry the burden anymore. I wanted to move on, get past it all and not look back, only holding onto the wisdom and everything I learned. I wanted so much, but my emotions wouldn't give. Not one single tear.

And then a bird pooped on me.

Seriously.

At first I was angry. Why would nature want to spoil my cathartic moment? Why take away my feeling of peace and rest? My thoughtful alone time? Why couldn't the bird wait one more second to pass over me?

And then I laughed. I laughed at the bird and I laughed at the situation. Someone was telling me that I shouldn't mourn--that I shouldn't keep thinking. Someone was saying that it's much easier to let go than to sit and cry by a perfectly nice lake. So instead I laughed. I laughed out all the pain and anguish I felt pent up. I laughed out the thoughts and the remorse. I laughed out the hopes and the nostalgia. I laughed it all out until there was nothing left.

And I felt so much better.

I stayed at the lake a bit longer, walking around the trail and taking in the day. I sat on the grass one more time before I left. That time I avoided all areas that contained birds.