Photo by Alex Adkins via Creative Commons It rained. Or rather, it poured. Large grey clouds darkened the sky, their heavy droplets collecting in puddles and soaking the ground, wind altering the direction of their descent as gravity pulled them towards the earth. From through the house window, I thought to myself, It sure is dreary out there. But upon further inspection, I found that this might not totally be the case. The wind seemed to be whistling a tune, accompanied by the soft percussion of rain hitting the ground and splashing in puddles. Dancing to that tune were the trees, swaying back and forth, rejoicing in the water that so eagerly rushed down to quench their thirst. The frogs too, could be heard from inside the house, their chorus befitting the scene. And the frogs too, were rejoicing in the long – needed downpour. When one looked up at the sky, one could see the clouds. On this particular occasion, they weren’t just a simple, massive screen of grey, hiding the sun and the bright blue of the atmosphere. For though they were dark and foreboding, they had a certain beauty about them as well. They were fluffy and rounded, and if one could have touched them, they might have felt soft like a chick’s down. I moved to a different window, looking out upon a different part of our yard. The geese frolicked and squawked in the field. A few stragglers had been left behind in the pond, and were rushing to catch up with the rest of the gaggle. Even the horses, soaked as they were, did not seem unhappy. They stood under a tree, tails stock still, for the rain had chased off any flies. Their eyes were bright, as if excited by this storm. The pond sent waves crashing against the shore, sticks and algae being stranded on its gravelly beaches. No fish jumped, but that may have been because of the lone white egret that swam about in the water, daring a silly fish to show itself. If there had been such a silly fish, it didn’t jump out of the water to taunt the bird of prey. And all the while the rain came down, splashing upon the ground. Finally, I decided to don a raincoat and feel what it was like out there for myself. After pulling on my boots, I ran out the door. Immediately, a pleasing smell filled my nose. It was the smell of rain. It was comforting and nice, but not sharp enough to feel like an assault. Along with the sound of the wind and the frogs, I could now fully hear the rain, pattering softly onto the earth and my raincoat. It was cool out there, but pleasantly so, not quite cold, but then leaning more to that side. Underneath my layers, I felt that even if we were to set the thermostat at exactly this temperature, it would not be the same. There was something very vague about the entire feel, but detectable as the soft caress of nature upon my surroundings. I lifted my head to the sky, blinking constantly as water hit my eyes. The water did not hurt at all, rather felt quite nice. I opened my mouth and stretched my tongue out, yearning for a taste of this caress of nature. And it tasted unlike most water. Once again, it had nature’s faint touch to it, like the secret ingredient in a recipe, but this was truly a secret ingredient. I could not place the taste as anything my tongue had experienced before. But it was good. I sighed as my mother called me in for dinner. I thought to myself, Well, I suppose that upon further inspection, the rain may not be so dreary at all. I put my hand on the doorknob, and drank in the last of this beautiful image.
Books vs. Video Games
Books are in many ways a different universe. They lead to imagination and adventure more than any other object or activity. Some might argue that this isn’t true. Well, what else could possibly be so imaginative? Back before electronic devices such as phones, computers, and television, there was no real entertainment besides books and the outdoors. This was not a bad thing; books can be educational, and they massively improve a reader’s vocabulary and language skills. But then video games came along. Video games became the ultimate entertainment, everybody loved them. But they began to be a problem. Less and less people were reading books, rather spending countless hours before their screens. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but eventually, almost everyone played video games or had some sort of console at home. Books were being left alone. Whereas books had some productivity, for they were educational and allowed readers to learn in a fun way, video games didn’t teach anything, and were just, to put it simply, a way to pass time. When one sits down to play a computer game, they are literally just sitting there, doing nothing, at least in real life. The game is designed to make you feel like you are a part of the adventure, the main character, the magic man. But really, you aren’t. You’re simply sitting on a couch, doing nothing. Some might argue, “well reading is the same thing, sitting down, doing nothing”. But that isn’t completely true. When you read, your brain takes in information and stores it in the back of your mind. It increases the level of imagination a reader has. Computer games, however, don’t. They make your imagination worse. Instead of thinking up a brilliant idea for a board game or an outdoor activity, all you can think of is the game, and nothing else seems to appear in your brain. So the real question is, books or video games; which is better? The answer is simple: books. Next time you sit down to immerse yourself in a video game, think about it. Are you really doing something productive??? Do you agree with Lukas? Let us know what you think in the comment section!
Nature in Fiji: an Awe-Filling Experience
Map of Fiji. Image by Globe-trotter [CC BY-SA 3.0 (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons.In November of 2016, my family and I traveled to the island of Vanua Levu, Fiji. We stayed at a place called Koro Sun Resort. Each day the resort had certain events going on that one could sign up for, for no extra charge. Whether it was snorkeling, hiking through the rainforest, or kayaking to a small island, there was no end to the fun. On one particular day, my family and I decided to sign up for a trip to a waterfall. At first we thought it wouldn’t be as good as everyone made it to be, but when our guide stopped the van at a local store and said, “We need to get a root as an offering to the village folk,” we began to realize that the descriptions might be serious. We drove away from the store, past a beach, and finally we arrived in a very small gravel parking lot, off a dirt road leading away from most of civilization. At least we thought so at first. Our guide showed us the trail we would be hiking, and eager to go see the waterfall, my sister and I ran towards the trail. But our guide, Romano, told us, “No. Not yet. You forget that we must give the roots to the village chief.” So we began walking down another path, somewhat wider, and in a matter of about a minute, found ourselves on the edge of a very small village. The metal houses were built upon green lawns that were inhabited by barefoot, running children playing with chickens, puppies, and full grown dogs. The houses were ramshackle and most consisted of only one room, but still, the people were happy. You see, when one travels to Vanua Levu, you think when you walk through the villages, “These people seem like they shouldn’t be happy at all.” But the people are some of the happiest and kindest you will ever get to know. They are not bothered by their small houses. They are simply happy. This is one of the reasons I love Fiji. Romano asked the chief respectfully if he may present his gift, and she obliged. Around her there were other women, all with handmade jewelry, woven reed tapestries, and all sorts of cool rainforest-made items. After the chief accepted the gift, she told my family, who were the only tourists, “It is good that you have asked my permission to see the waterfall. Once some people went to our waterfall without asking, and bad things fell upon them. At the waterfall they got hurt and had to be brought to the hospital. Nobody who has asked permission has ever gotten hurt.” My family and I looked through the trinkets, jewelry, and woven tapestries, for they were all for sale. My sister bought a nice wood turtle necklace, and I got a tapestry for my grandmother. Soon it was time to leave the village. My sister wanted to play with the puppies first though, so we had to wait a little while longer. But then, it was time to see the true aim of our trip to this remote place. We came back to the trail, and began walking. Romano showed the way, but I was hardly paying attention to him. All around us trees, vines, and flowers of all sorts were to be seen. It was a like a huge painting, only better. On one side of the trail there were wild peppers, very spicy, Romano informed us. On the other, papayas grew, wild as well, with elephant-ear plants boasting their huge leaves beside them. Wild coconut and banana trees grew around us too. There was simply no end to the wildlife and plants. Birds flitted around above us, bugs and small animals could be heard in the underbrush. All in all, it was beautiful. Finally, the moment of anticipation came as we began to hear the roaring, rushing cascade we knew was the waterfall. When it finally came into sight, my sister Lena and I ran the rest of the trail, hearts pounding with excitement. And then we arrived. Clear, cool water fell down an outcropping of rock about forty feet high. It collected in a pool that eventually went on to continue the river that flowed before it turned into the waterfall. Romano called it a “natural swimming pool”. My parents and Romano arrived, my father and Romano immediately ripped off their shirts and dove in. I was quick to follow, and after me, Lena. My mother refrained from going for a swim. She thought the water was too cold, for cold it was, but not cold enough to deter me. Romano climbed the waterfall and jumped in, making a huge splash. I must say, he was at least thirty feet up. My father tried to climb as high, but couldn’t. He ended up jumping off at around twenty feet. I climbed the waterfall, but only to about ten feet high. It was an exhilarating jump into the water. We finally returned to Koro Sun Resort. We thanked Romano, and headed to our villa for a rest. Leaving Vanua Levu was very hard and sad for my family and I. It is a sacred place in my heart, for it is one of the places where nature truly rules. I want to protect this place, for future tourism and simply its beauty. I am determined to keep it the way it is. Who will join me?
