The Dangers of Being Safe and Secure

         I stick my head out of my second story window, and above the crowded neighborhoods I see the peaks of mountains, glistening white. To their left is a hill of trees, yet to be developed, unaware that their end is near. Out with nature, in with spacious homes and shopping malls. People make the trade willingly. A sliver of ocean catches my eye. How can something so huge appear so small? A bird zooms by my ear. I’m in his turf now; my roof is level with his nest. I climb out, and up.

         Up on the roof, I lean against the chimney and take in my clearer surroundings. The ocean now lives up to its name. The cold blue abyss looks warm and inviting as the sun mirrors itself in the water. This postcard quality view needs no fancy computer editing, for nature’s beauty looks best in the raw. I look down at our cul-de-sac and I realize I live in the bulb of a thermometer. And what is this steam? I feel the warm vapor that rises from these pipes that I never knew were here. It clashes beautifully with the chilled air, making itself noticeable.

         I notice the neighbor’s trees I thought were so tall are not as tall as me now. And though I can see so far and wide, a silence has set on this sunny Saturday. Would you believe it snowed the night before last? You would if you felt the chill. The bright sun deceives us as I squint down at a thermometer in someone’s yard. Close to freezing.

         As I sit here tickled by the pleasant chill passing through my sweater, I wonder what room I would fall into if I crashed though the ceiling. I am sure that if I fell into my own room and onto my bed, that I would only pull the covers over me and admire my work. A hole in the ceiling. My peephole into the world.

         But I do not fall through. I climb back in and go down to the ground floor. I look out a window into the street and I notice how limited my view is. I hate how close gravity feels at my feet. They want to fly back to the rooftop, but are grounded by the cushy carpet. Let me out! Something screams inside me. LET ME OUT! I find I hate my living room walls as I crave a panoramic view. Open up these walls so the world can swallow me whole. I do not fear this fate. Let me escape this cage of safety with artificial heat. The Earth’s temperature is not always set to 68 degrees! I want to freeze, to burn! Whatever she decides, for Mother Earth know best. A life sheltered from nature’s elements is not living. For trees are better company than this uninvited guest of solitude. No one is home. No one is calling and this growing silence is getting too piercing to tolerate. The ocean’s waves would whisper to me, wild grasses could entertain me and the mountains would share their wisdom. So release me from your claws of security and let me relax in the dangers of the unknown. Let me live. Let me out.