For many, an orchard may simply be a collection of trees, as dictionaries declare. I deny this definition, for I have lived with the kind of feeling these orchards provide. For me, it is a pulsating recollection of the past, a refuge where one sits down and gets lost in the dense vastness above and the freshness all around. It is a platform where one wishes to stop the watch and freeze time, to slow down the cacophony of fast-moving life. As one wanders through the immense expanse of nature, the occasional breeze whispers, urging the weight of the fruit to be carried away. The air in these wonderful places not only mesmerizes the human eye with the gentle whirl of leaves and the oscillation of hanging fruits, but also enchants the soul. The ground beneath one’s feet seems ever ready to carry you forward, to help you reach out and breathe in the natural fragrance of the fruits around. The apples, at least to me, appear like earrings hanging from the limbs, adding a verse to my poem, one I often compose under the supervision of nature. At times, the sunbeams drop serious messages on the skins of the fruit, making them speak volumes. Sitting under a tree does not evoke the same feeling Newton must have had when he unravelled the mystery of gravity; to me, the hanging entity above my head is beyond any gravitational pull. Frankly, I let things move at their own pace and allow my nerves to stretch as far as they wish, exploring the stage of nature beyond imagination. The orchard is a classroom where I have learned how to grow, how to stay connected with nature, and, above all, it is a little cosmos for me, where I feel, reflect, and enrich my emotions.
By: Mumin Zargar 11 Emerald
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