A Letter to the Symbolic World by Clayton Knox

After dinner ends, and all the dreadful tasks are complete, I escape out the door when mom isn’t looking. I walk down the steps towards the beach. I wade through the shallows of the Gulf of Mexico. The sun has set, and the stars glisten off the choppy waves. The wind swirls, washing the salt and sand across the landscape and into the air. Standing amongst this power brings a certain reverence for divinity. It is not exactly beautiful, or even pleasant, but the unrelenting power of the sea is awe-inspiring. A blue heron bellows its cry down the coast. It is an awful rasp that reflects the rugged habitat in which it lives. He has seen the horrors of this world; he has seen all. What does the heron mean? What untranslatable spirit of man is housed in this creature? The heron says, “I have seen all, there are horrors in this world. But despite those horrors, life is worth living.” He warns us of the horrors that man is capable of. He wants us to acknowledge the monster inside of us so that we can control it, to use it for good instead of evil. We must experience nature to truly understand ourselves, and that is necessary in order to live a meaningful life. [Sunday February 20, 2022, 9:30 a.m.]

This morning, I lay on the hard packed clay road at the intersection of Old Centerville and Sunny Hill Road, a few paces south of the Florida-Georgia line. There is a cool breeze, and the sun warms my soul. The sky is a deep cobalt blue that fills me with softness. The branches of a live oak splinter across my view. A choir of birds fills the air with pleasant sounds. What is this natural world telling me? It tells me to relax, so I relax. It tells me that everything will be alright, so I believe. I feel complete peace and am content to simply be. With the peace of the world absorbed into my bones, I continue my day. Hoping to radiate some of that warmth back to her.

In today’s world, we must deliberately seek out these natural symbols. We spend the better part of our lives trapped indoors. Within these walls, we are blindfolded to the true spirit of man. We are unable to understand ourselves without seeing and experiencing nature. Without seeing these symbols, we become lost and confused. We have no way of explaining the inexplicable; only nature can do that. Seeing a glorious sunrise reflects a certain state of mind. Any attempt to put this state of mind into words will always be incomplete. So, go out there! Get out in nature and absorb its meaning. Perhaps if we were to take a step outside and see what nature means we would stress less about the matters modern society puts so much worth on. Things such as standardized tests, the text you sent to that girl, or your grade on the AP Lang essay all seem trivial when we are among nature. When we simplify to what truly matters to us, all else seems to slip away. “Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in. I drink at it; but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is. Its thin c current slides away, but eternity remains.” (Thoreau 971) Lately, I’ve tried to be closer to nature, to allow it to tell me what I need to hear. Nature gives me everything I need and nothing that I don’t. By slowing down and getting at the meaning of these natural symbols, I have realized what truly matters, what brings me joy. Currently for me that means showing my love to the world. Relaxing a little bit. Running freely. Enjoying food. Noticing the little things. The glimpses into the unknown consciousness of man. Perhaps trying to bring some more of that mystery into the light. I have seen that this world I perceive as complicated, and frustrating, is really a lot simpler than I thought. I am able to let things that used to keep me up at night slip away into oblivion. Worrying about how I look, my grades, and track times. No longer. Like that peaceful Sunday told me, “Everything will work out” so I will allow these trivial matters to slip away and dig my feet down deep into the mud of what matters.

Works Consulted

Emerson, Ralph Waldo. Nature. The Norton Anthology of American Literature: Volume 1, edited by Robert S. Levine, Shorter 9th ed. W.W. Norton and Company, Inc., 2017, pp.562

Thoreau, Henry David. Walden. The Norton Anthology of American Literature: Volume 1, edited by Robert S. Levine, Shorter 9th ed. W.W. Norton and Company, Inc., 2017, pp.971