Connect

“So you really don’t like nature?” I asked.

“Well… no. Anything green makes me feel a little nauseous… which is why I would break up with you instantly if you ever dyed your hair that colour!” Graham said, playfully poking me in the ribs.

I smiled back, then glanced out of the car window at Graham’s front door. I could hear his family from even inside the car… the only way of getting a bit of privacy was by hiding out in Graham’s battered old gas-guzzler. It made me resent his family a little. Lovely as they may be, it was impossible to find any alone time at his house. I hated bringing it up, but Graham and I really did need to find a place where we could just be together, with no interruptions.

“Kelly?” he asked tentatively.

“I’m fine,” I said. I shook off the feelings of resentment creeping up on me, then smiled at him.

“So,” he said, clearly wanting to change the subject, “I miss your pink hair. I wish you hadn’t dyed it brown again.”

“Oh no, don’t get on at me about that again!” I said, light-heartedly shoving him into the car door. “I told you, it costs far too much! Besides, I spend the money I save on you! You can’t tell me you don’t love your new t-shirt!”

“Okay, I do love the t-shirt. But I do feel guilty about it…” he said.

“Well, don’t feel too guilty. I bought new hiking boots the other day.” I said.

Graham went quiet again at the mention of my new hiking boots. He really hates nature. I think it must have something to do with the time when he got lost in the woods when he was young… it took his family about three hours to find him, and you have to realise that being lost in the woods for three hours when you’re only eight years old is scary business. I knew for a fact that he’d not been in any kind of woody landscape since then. Suddenly, I was struck with an idea.

“Graham… if I ask you to let me do something, will you?” I asked.

“Erm…” he mumbled, confused, “I suppose so…”

“Okay,” I said, clapping my hands together “Get out of the car, and give me the keys. Quick, quick, quick! I have an amazing idea!”

He did as I asked. He handed me the keys, walked around the car, and slid into the passenger seat as I sat in the driver’s seat. He obviously wanted to ask me what I was planning, but before he could say anything, I said,

“Don’t ask.” I put the key into the ignition and started the car. Reversing out of the drive and taking off down the road as fast as the speed limit would allow, I said “Look, just trust me on this. You’re going to like it.”

“Fine,” he said “as long as I get to choose what we listen to on the way there!”

He turned the radio onto his favourite channel. Rolling my eyes, I allowed myself to look at the scenery while driving. I saw concrete blocks that people called houses, but certainly didn’t look like houses from outside. I saw children, playing in a concrete playground. The neighbourhoods got richer as we drove on, and children were playing on metal climbing frames with tarmac floors. Further still, and the houses began to get grander… they no longer looked like concrete blocks, but looked as though care had been taken to ensure that each house was different from the next. Yet further into the countryside we drove, the houses becoming more difficult to spot. Some were completely obscured by trees, and most were more than five minutes away from the previous house.

Finally, I stopped the car in the middle of the road.

“Okay…” Graham said, “Why have we stopped here? We’re in the middle of nowhere…”

“Actually, we’re not. It just feels like we are. My Aunt Joan lives just around that corner. There’s a retirement home and enough room for a turning circle another five minutes away. I wouldn’t bring you here if it was the middle of nowhere… mainly because you’re going to insist on driving home…” I grinned at him, and he gave a sarcastically sweet smile back.

“So, why are we here?” he asked again.

“Well…” I hesitated, wondering if I should just drive back “I wanted to show you how beautiful nature could be, and how you don’t need pretty, colourful flowers surrounded by pristinely cropped grass to enjoy the beauty of the earth. And I know how you won’t go anywhere that doesn’t have tarmac or concrete on the floor. So I figured that it’s almost sunset on a Sunday, so no-one will be driving near here.”

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. I was baffled again at how much he hated nature.

“Right. Well, I came, I saw, I got bored,” he said. “Can we drive home now?”

“No. Come on, get out of the car!”

He did as I asked, and awkwardly waited outside the car as I got out. I walked over a few paces and sat down, legs crossed, on one side of the dividing line in the road. I gestured for Graham to come over, and with a pout and a sigh, he did. He followed suit and seated himself as I had, but on the other side on the dividing line.

“Look around,” I said “Look at the trees. You don’t have to feel lost, because you know exactly where you are. You’re sitting on the tarmac. You’re part way between country and city. I think that we should take this time to just… appreciate nature. What do you think?”

He was unwilling, I could tell that much. Where I had always been spiritual and a lover of the earth, Graham had always been an inner-city guy, loving the buildings that had, in my opinion, destroyed the beauty of our city. We were so different in that respect that it was amazing that we got on at all sometimes.

“Fine.” He said reluctantly, “But please, none of that ridiculous tree-hugging crap. I love you to bits, but not enough to go ambling about, warbling on about how wonderful trees and grass and plants are, because you know I can’t stand that shit.”

He was swearing… that meant he wasn’t amused, and really didn’t want to be here. Oh well, we’re here now, I thought. I might as well persevere.

“I want you to close your eyes. What do you smell?” I asked.

“I smell… your perfume, mostly…” he said.

“Oh, shut up!” I scolded him “Do it properly!”

“Fine,” he conceded. He closed his eyes, and said, “I smell trees.”

“What do they smell of?” I asked

“They smell of… freshness.”

“Good,” I smiled. “Now, what do you hear?”

It continued like that for a while. I got a lot out of him, actually… I think that he even began to appreciate nature in the way that I did.

I watched him for a while. He looked so serene, so happy. I looked into the sky and gave a sigh of contentment. Graham opened his eyes and held out his hands in front of his torso. I took them, and looked into his eyes. We sat there for a long time, just looking at each other. Occasionally we’d close our eyes and enjoy the sounds and smells of the surrounding woods. As sunset arrived, ruby, amethyst and gold, we looked into the sky, still clasping hands, and felt an overwhelming sense of place; that in that spot, and in that moment, we were supposed to be there.

It was as though we were suddenly suspended in time and space. It felt as though everything was connected, that we could feel all of the energies in the world. Beneath us was the tarmac, but beneath that was a thriving world of insects. Branching out we could feel the birds fluttering their wings, the trees photosynthesising, the deer grazing and the spiders spinning their webs. We could also, incredibly, feel each other’s energy. It felt as if our souls had become joined together.

As the sun finally set below the horizon, we opened our eyes. We gazed at each other for a while, completely in shock about the inexpressible incident that just occurred.

To this day, we’ve not been able to explain it. Graham has since completely conquered his fear of nature, to the point where he keeps a small flowerbed in his front garden. The mystical place, just around the corner from my Aunt’s house, has since become our place.

Since the weather is usually warm and dry in our town, we often visit our place. When we feel unhappy, or frustrated, or stressed, we’ll drive straight over and metaphysically connect with nature. Our place brings tranquillity, joyfulness, and a feeling of being whole. Graham and I connected, and we both connected with nature.