Before most people are awake

As both John and Supriya have emphasized, nature's influence is so pervasive it may be impossible to nail down a definitive "most magical" moment. After all, nature was once the whole world, and even considering how difficult it is to channel all the drone of mankind there is a eminence to the creeping growth and swirling winds that surround us. Perhaps my fondest memory of nature's intervention though in my life occurred this past summer. I worked at two sister summer camps with a mission of inspecting our religious views emphasizing the message of stewardship in the Bible. Rather than the exploitative interpretation that many people have mistakenly carried out, the camp was a lovely opportunity to come with creation. To get the counselors to more deeply experience the vitality and majesty of the environs that North and South Carolina could afford the camping program, we were made to hike up Rockface. Beginning at 4 AM in the cold of the pre-dawn, the first group began our ascent. The beginning of the trip was a virtually pitch black scrawl over hilly moss with the sounds of insects and the dewy persistence of life that goes on long before most people are awake.

Little were we warned that our resolve would have to match such persistence as miles into the trek when we took a break at a large root structure, we were told that we were a bit over halfway and the rest of the trek would be exceedingly steep. Sensing the coming of the sunrise, we rushed to reach the summit in the ever-increasing light. Finally there, many who found the trip had pushed them to the limit broke into tears as a sort of release(I was later to find out that this was a common practice of this particularly person, but I certainly appreciated the gravity of the situation). The pinnacle provided a natural clearing upon which we watched the sun break the horizon miles away over sprawling green foothills and peaks. I could not muster a word until we were back at camp. I pondered literature, art, architecture, love-- the entirety of man's most treasured exploits-- and could not find one thing to contend with what consumed my vision and what I knew was only the smallest section of what nature could put forth.

I suppose it is with this statement that I make my case for saving nature. Humans toil to keep intact so many of the inherited accomplishments of artists, writers, craftsmen, and thinkers that came before us. If these can still manage to pale in comparison to nature's beauty, and were you to have been on that mountain on that morning, you'd know that they can, then preserving nature is just as vital a pursuit. In many cases, nature is the source of innovation and introspection in poetry, architecture, and in relationships. To see it disappear might certainly mean that the scope of our abilities to produce these essentially human exploits might also dwindle to nothing.