I stand at the water’s edge, because it’s too cold to sit on the frozen ice beneath my feet.  I see my breath.  I hear the stream.  I see the birds.   I hear the snow.  And I think for the first time about the composition of these things, of myself.  Chemicals.  We are all chemicals.  Is that what intertwines us all?  The living, the inanimate, the liquids, the solids, the good, the bad?  Chemicals know no boundaries.  I have often heard that cancer does not discriminate, but the more I think, the more I realize – it’s the chemicals that do not discriminate.

What surrounding me in this White Clay Creek has contributed to the chemicals in my body?  The snow on the ground?  Well, I’ve been eating snow for many years now so I’m sure that’s added to the numbers.  The water, barely moving through in its frozen state?  What did it pass through to get to the exact spot its in now?  What did it collect on its way?  It certainly looks clearer than the water from my tap that tastes too much of chlorine for my liking.  But would I drink it?  Or do I believe that the bleached water is better for me than the stream in its natural state?  Is the crisp air as crisp as it seems?  What has the train that passes through 10 times a day put out?  How many of the emissions from I95 reached this point where I stand?  Too many for comfort.

For the first time I have critically thought of every single thing surrounding me.  I have thought about the toxins living in my body.  I have wondered their effect.  I have thought of the toxins to come.  I have thought of the toxins in the other beings bodies.  It disgusts me that humans are the creators of these chemicals.  We are living a murder-suicide.  Might as well lock us in a gas chamber – at least it would be faster.

But I must find the owl in my mind – ricochet off of every negative, albeit real, thought to reach some closure with beauty.  I must realize that all beings surrounding me are thriving.  They are pushing through the intoxication.  They are forgiving.  The tree to my back, the soil under the snow beneath my feet, the microorganisms in the stream, the insects that I cannot see, the deer and the raccoons and the skunks and the possums that come out at night.  They do not hold it against me that my species is pumping them full of synthetic compounds.  They allow me to admire their spectacle, their literal natural beauty, despite what humans have done.

And we must forgive like nature, in all realms of life.  Forgive like nature and become like nature.  Nature is not synthetic except for what we dump into it.  Humans are not synthetic except for what we dump and pour into and onto ourselves.  Soon enough, if not already, our advancements with synthetic compounds will begin to be declines.  Then we will turn back to nature for remedies.  Simply, we must change.  We must change for the oaks, and the deer, and the streams, and the snow, and ourselves, and our children, and their children.  We will be accepting of a change away from chemicals only when we accept our wrongs and forgive ourselves. And that, I realize, is what intertwines us all – forgiveness.