Nature and Moving on with Life--by Lindsey Wiker

Although I usually find it unhelpful to combine nature walks with technology, this seemed to me an appropriate time to talk on my cell while walking the Nolan Trail. Earlier this semester, I made plans for a "phone date" with my friend Emily from Ohio. I hadn't talked to her verbally in a couple of years. She is a longtime friend, a best friend of mine who I grew up with and ultimately had to leave when I moved to Virginia the summer before 8th grade. I knew our lives had diverged and we had changed, so I had a lot of catching up to do.
Whenever I walk the Nolan Trail, my roomates and I usually walk part of it, but this time we traveled the whole way through. While they talked and laughed amongst each other, I was immersed in a phone conversation with Emily. As we discussed how things used to be, I gazed at my surroundings and found a kind of inner peace. It seemed so sad that we had drifted so far apart from each other, and that things would never be the same, but at the same time--I felt that everything was the way it should be. Looking at the water and the trees, I could think of things to say to Emily that I probably would have thought of pacing in my bedroom. There was this inner balance where I could see my life in perspective--where it was, where it is, and where it is going. It seems like I get that feeling every time I think pensively outdoors. Emily and I talked about what we are going through now, and what our future plans are. After spending time with just her voice and the trail, there came a point when there was nothing left to say. We ended our conversation, and I snapped my phone shut. I was left with silence, except for the sound of wind in my ears. I felt an overwhelming sadness again, and realized that I was mourning for my childhood. I looked around. The world reasurred me that everything was right. The natural world always moves on. It always adapts. Feeling serene, I quickened my pace and caught up with my roomates.