Silhouettes of Hope

Taking a step outside, I observe as the luscious, wild grasses encapsulate my feet, tickling me slightly. I bask in the warmth the plants beneath me absorbed from the vibrant sun rays. Lucious and deep forest fill the land to the brim. Logwood, mahogany, and cacao trees flourish everywhere. The environment is all but quiet; cicadas chirp, rustling ensues, birds converse. Humidity is not a bothersome factor for it hydrates the environment. The air is clean and smells as though it was handcrafted to perfectly describe the rainforest. A rainbow of colors is separated amongst the flora and fauna who call this land home, creating a natural painting. Looking above, I see the sun, glowing in its brilliant glory while an endless blue hugs the ball of fire like a blanket. Silhouettes of Scarlet Macaws cover the sky, I admire with astonishment, if only my feet could take me to them. The majestic birds possess every color surrounding me right on their own backs. They, amongst all other fauna, live freely in this untouched land. The ecosystem is uninterrupted. All is how it should be, fully functioning. I could spend all day outside, watching the Macaws fly by to wherever they wish to be, and so I do. I sit until the vines and grasses underneath me feel like cement, daylight diminishes, and a new set of noises take place of the ones heard in the day. The aura of the night changes from what I typically know. Feeling as though I had been seated for centuries, I brush aside the suspicion in my brain and find my way to sleep.

Morning commences, I take a step outside. The wild grasses crunch beneath my feet, torched from the seemingly endless deforestation. The variety of trees I dream of being surrounded by diminish to only a small few. Machines bustle with sound from every direction. Hardly any color shines through the smoke, debris, and fog filled in the air. The great star above is dulled from pollution. The water that once cooled the air has been replaced as temperatures rise each year. I look to the sky, it is a rarity to see a Scarlet Macaw, but still, I look. Regardless of circumstance, I sit upon the dying ground below. The beauty in my dreams is but a mere reflection of a world that once was.

As time passes, I hear something from above, to my surprise a flock of Scarlet Macaws pass above me. Natural colors pass by me like kites in the wind. The sheer and overwhelming beauty of the Scarlet Macaws instil hope into my thoughts. Hope of a day we will once again be harmonious with the nature around us, and treat all like those of the family, providing a safe and healthy environment for them. I foresee a day we let animals be animals instead of price tags and means of profit. They are free to remind us that we once were too, and we can be again. We awe at the beauty of nature, yet do not take the necessary precautions to preserve and keep admiring it. How much land, how many animals, how many people have to suffer before we make a change? As the birds finally drifted out of sight, I realized I could stop dreaming of better days and do my best to create them. Doing what you can, if not everything that you can, is the hope our environment needs. I still sit with damage surrounding me, but I know what’s broken can be fixed, and someday we all will be as free as the Macaws above.