The Forest Fool

I hear the crickets now.

They sing their nightsong with all their might, a volume evolved to ferocious instinctual levels, creating a meditative chorus that waves through the forest. They know their song is magic, and it must be set free, a gospel that creates stillness more calming than silence.

The cool air is sneaking up the canyon, rousing my arm hair to attention, and nudging me the last mile home. There are a few minutes of light left in the high trees, so I pause to wash my hands in the creek and take it in. I’ve run this trail a thousand times, and it’s so easy to miss all that it has to offer.

Now here, on a random weeknight with nothing but time, I catch it all. When you head and heart are open, the turning of the night is a sensual masterpiece.

The gloaming reflects a truth I already know. The world is alive…where have you been? As the seasons pass, we watch you run by, head down in your introspective prison, fictionalizing and rationalizing, solving the world’s woes, and bearing the crosses of others simply because they asked. You are the definition of oblivious, unaware and unconcerned of the heaven around you, even when it contains all the answers and more.

I laugh out loud, splashing in the creek. What a fool am I! A glorious, oblivious fool.

A smile pulls at my cheeks as I let the humility consume me. I stand tall, rooted in the shadowed forest, staring up into the starry night.

The crickets do not pause. They have heard this laugh before. One more welcome voice in their chorus.