I love the outdoors
But really, I hate it
It’s an everyday thing,
Not payed attention to, ignored.
“The grass is green,” we are taught in
kindergarten
When our imaginations come close to exploding
And our senses tingle with joy at every new
experience
And yet, the outdoors is simply something that
exists
Something that is just there
Something looked over and taken for granted.
I avoid the outdoors
Because its greatness overwhelms me.
I get frustrated because no camera can fully
capture,
Can fully comprehend,
The clear layers of the pink evening clouds
Or the mysterious, whimsical glow of the moon.
It is simply one of the amazing parts of the
human experience
That words cannot describe.
I avoid the outdoors
Because I feel as if I will never truly be able
to comprehend its beauty.
When I go outside,
I feel as if my senses have been dulled
As if I am a tiny ant, released from its anthill
for the first time,
Not able to comprehend its newfound freedom.
No matter what words I use I will never be able
to grasp the perfect bliss
Of the outdoors.
And I guess
That if the outdoors could be easily
comprehended,
Easily described,
As it supposedly is in science class
Or in simple sentences to kindergarteners
Then it really wouldn’t be that amazing,
Would it? I guess
That it is a gift
To have something so amazing, so perfect,
That even our brilliant human senses
Cannot fully appreciate its greatness.
I guess
That the reason why the outdoors is looked over,
Taken for granted,
Even ignored,
Is not because we think that it is boring,
But that it is too overwhelming for the human
mind to grasp
And that scares us.
So I guess I think I hate the outdoors
But really,
I love it
More than I can understand.