Monday, April 11, 2005

Wild Waters

The rising black waters rushed under the wooden bridge, a relentless flow that could pull a man under and drag him to his doom. Above, the midnight stars were obscured by the ever-present streetlights, glaring into every dark corner, driving back the gentle peace of the night in favour of a harsh artificial day. I stood there on the footbridge, leaning on the rail, trying to ignore the lights and the crowded buildings that encroached upon this small sanctuary of green life and water. The rising spring flood seemed to make a silent mockery of all that man had built about them. Buildings, fences, bridges, roads, all would fall if they stood in the path of the uncaring waters.

There was something wild about it, something yet untamed by the tiny creatures that claim dominance of this planet. A hint of a great untapped power dwelling just under the surface, greater forces which could in an instant destroy a thousand years of man's achievement. Compared to those terrors of nature, this was but a trickle, a drop, but even this could claim a my life without a moment's notice, were I not careful to stay clear. And yet this great, monstrous, beautiful beast is viewed by most as an inconvenience, a distraction.

The world's people, those who were now tucked safely in their beds, hiding from anything wild or unknown or frightening, would wake up the next day worrying about work, or finances, or complaining about their hangover and their petty problems. They would go about their lives as they had every day before, oblivous to all but their own tiny universes, oblivious to the enormity of the world around them. None would pause to consider the beauty of the light striking a tree that certain way, or the pleasant odour of the spring rain, and few would spare the sunset's fires a second glance. Their only concern would be this afternoon's business meeting, or that bit of gossip they heard about someone they hardly know, or their plans for getting drunk and even more oblivious to everything that weekend.

Here, next to the black torrents seething under the surface of the swollen stream, such things seem small and petty. If mankind's greatest achievements cannot match that of a small creek barely large enough to have a name, then what chance have the shallow concerns of society? And if we are so small before the hugeness of nature, then what are we before God, who created it all?

7 comments:

Mando said...

woah, I don't know where that came from, but it was cool. nicely done.

Krig the Viking said...

'Twas just some thoughts that were going through my mind a few nights ago, when the creek was all flooding and I went down to check it out after midnight. Took me like four tries to write it down properly, though.

Fallen said...

I must say that was an interesting story. I enjoyed it muchly. Good to know you have now joined us. See ya around.

Hermit said...

That was awsome. I like reading your mind. In fact I never knew you so well.

carly said...

sweet jared, really great blog. see ya next time!

SEZ said...

This is beautiful, Krig! Maybe I should say, "handsome". Anyway, I'm really impressed! So is my significant Other! He has read only one of your postings so far. The definiton of the word bandwagon. He thoroughly enjoyed it!
I like the wood background and the fragile, frayed "paper" you're writing on. The whole site has a solid, secure, peaceful, and "quality" feel to it. Thanks for doing it.
Love,
You Know Who

Krig the Viking said...

Thanks, Mom! :-)

I can't take full credit for the layout of the blog, though. I just took some existing graphics and altered them. It's about half mine, and half just the regular template.

The original version was like Mike Boorman's blog at http://sojournersjournal.blogspot.com/

Oh, and for those who haven't caught on yet, "SEZ" is my mom. ;-)