Aiculík
06-10-2008, 11:35 AM
She was sitting in the grass, and thought it was real pity she cannot enjoy the day. And I must say it was very fine day. As lovely as an August day can be: the spotless sky was of the most kitsch pale blue, and the grass was of equally kitsch emerald-green. It was still slightly moist from the short summer storm of that morning, but she didn’t mind, in fact it was nice feeling the moist leaves of grass tickling her legs. Another positive effect of the storm was change of air – it wasn’t so heavy and sticky. The birds in the crown of the peach and pear trees all around her were obviously trying to sing their lungs out and bees buzzed around busily and merrily. As for the peaches and pears, their sweet aroma caused she was considering the idea of getting up and picking one for past twenty minutes. But she decided that wouldn’t really fit in with her depressive mood. (Though, of course, this decision wasn’t fully conscious.)
So she remained sitting in the grass, desperately trying to find something ugly or negative that would help her keep her gloomy mood. But in the garden like this one, it was totally impossible. She tried to focus on the fallen peach on her left – it was half rotten and one or two wasps were crawling on it; but it was difficult to muse over sad fate of the peach when there were few hundreds of its siblings just above her head. And besides, why should the fate of falling from the tree and being eaten by the wasp be worse than the fate of being picked from the tree and eaten by the human, or being boiled and canned, or baked in the pie? If anything, it was more natural, not worse. So that didn’t work at all.
No, she was not stupid and she deep inside she did realize how silly her insisting on depression is. But to be just, it was not that she didn’t have a reason to be depressed. She did and she simply didn’t like the idea that the loveliness and perfection of the garden should win over her feelings so easily. I mean, she did split up with her boyfriend just that morning. And if she forgot about the pain and depression so easily, what would it mean? What would it reveal about her love? Wouldn’t it mean it wasn’t quite true?
And she couldn’t accept that. Living in a relationship for three years – and then to find out that it doesn’t really hurt that much when it’s all over – that sounds so harsh and cynical. But she’s not that kind of a person. Everyone knows she’s very sensitive and romantic person. Which means she should be heart-broken, numbed by pain, weeping desperately. That’s the kind of behaviour that her family and her friends expect from her. That he expects from her. (Really, he looked rather disappointed when she didn’t start to cry and beg him not to leave her). But if she’s not the gentle, sensitive soul everyone always thought she is, then who is she?
Suddenly she noticed that the dry leaf hanging from the currant bush - now that could be something depressing to see, so said without its red fruits they picked just yesterday, but unfortunately that was too boring to watch for more than twenty seconds – but back to the leaf, yes, it was swinging gently and how can it be swinging where there’s no wind? The leaf began to move as if it had cramps, and she suddenly realised it was not a leaf at all. It was a cocoon.
Just few days ago, they were watching a TV document about butterflies, how they make they cocoons and shut the world out and there, in privacy, they change completely and few days later, they are reborn, recreated... It fascinated her and she never had a chance to watch it in person… so she wasn't going to miss this one. She moved as close as she dared and watched it carefully, fully concentrated, hardly breathing. And quite forgetting about the whole world – what was, or what will be. For a few minutes, she and the butterfly were the only entities in the whole universe. There and then.
Come on, little butterfly, let's fly, she smiled as she watched its first attempts to flap its wings. Then, at the same moment, as if the was some invisible connection between them, both of them rised up, turned their backs on empty cocoon and left the garden.
So she remained sitting in the grass, desperately trying to find something ugly or negative that would help her keep her gloomy mood. But in the garden like this one, it was totally impossible. She tried to focus on the fallen peach on her left – it was half rotten and one or two wasps were crawling on it; but it was difficult to muse over sad fate of the peach when there were few hundreds of its siblings just above her head. And besides, why should the fate of falling from the tree and being eaten by the wasp be worse than the fate of being picked from the tree and eaten by the human, or being boiled and canned, or baked in the pie? If anything, it was more natural, not worse. So that didn’t work at all.
No, she was not stupid and she deep inside she did realize how silly her insisting on depression is. But to be just, it was not that she didn’t have a reason to be depressed. She did and she simply didn’t like the idea that the loveliness and perfection of the garden should win over her feelings so easily. I mean, she did split up with her boyfriend just that morning. And if she forgot about the pain and depression so easily, what would it mean? What would it reveal about her love? Wouldn’t it mean it wasn’t quite true?
And she couldn’t accept that. Living in a relationship for three years – and then to find out that it doesn’t really hurt that much when it’s all over – that sounds so harsh and cynical. But she’s not that kind of a person. Everyone knows she’s very sensitive and romantic person. Which means she should be heart-broken, numbed by pain, weeping desperately. That’s the kind of behaviour that her family and her friends expect from her. That he expects from her. (Really, he looked rather disappointed when she didn’t start to cry and beg him not to leave her). But if she’s not the gentle, sensitive soul everyone always thought she is, then who is she?
Suddenly she noticed that the dry leaf hanging from the currant bush - now that could be something depressing to see, so said without its red fruits they picked just yesterday, but unfortunately that was too boring to watch for more than twenty seconds – but back to the leaf, yes, it was swinging gently and how can it be swinging where there’s no wind? The leaf began to move as if it had cramps, and she suddenly realised it was not a leaf at all. It was a cocoon.
Just few days ago, they were watching a TV document about butterflies, how they make they cocoons and shut the world out and there, in privacy, they change completely and few days later, they are reborn, recreated... It fascinated her and she never had a chance to watch it in person… so she wasn't going to miss this one. She moved as close as she dared and watched it carefully, fully concentrated, hardly breathing. And quite forgetting about the whole world – what was, or what will be. For a few minutes, she and the butterfly were the only entities in the whole universe. There and then.
Come on, little butterfly, let's fly, she smiled as she watched its first attempts to flap its wings. Then, at the same moment, as if the was some invisible connection between them, both of them rised up, turned their backs on empty cocoon and left the garden.