The way in which sunlight shifts through the canopy and onto the forest floor never ceases to amaze me.
On a recent venture into the woods near my apartment, I traversed a gentle patchwork of light and shadow with more interest than usual. In shadow, the footpath appeared as one generally drab color. But when illuminated by the dappled sunlight, the shredded bed of dried leaves became an ocean of wonderfully chaotic and subtle natural tones.
I was struck by the apparent disorganization of it all. Sharp tree-shadows cut across the path in no particular direction; roots churned through the soft ground like mythic serpents through the sea; rocks emerged from the leaves like islands. Fleeting yet omnipresent, light swept through the underbrush as if on the wind, which passed through the trunks with a sound like waves rolling onto the shore.
In the disorder, I found comfort.
It was all such a contrast to the monotone structures and broad swaths of organized color that’s pervasive in environments made by human hands. We like to rearrange our world into patterns that make sense aesthetically — abstractly and physically. While I’m not a particularly organized person (I typically thrive working at a messy desk), for example, I need a structured schedule to be productive, as most people probably do. And if I were to design a home, I’d definitely plan it out beforehand. But while organization is often necessary and good, when inflicted on the natural world, this tendency for humans to reorder things does more harm than good.
Imagine a world entirely dominated by straight lines and flat surfaces — an existence without the wild.
It’s a disconcerting thought.
For a life devoid of nature is one that’s deprived of perhaps the simplest and most profound pleasures that’s available. (And I use the term “nature” in the broadest sense.) So, to ensure that your environment isn’t dominated by straight lines and flat surfaces, to offset the order, consider placing an unkempt plant on the windowsill; or pull off at an open field and observe the starry sky; take a few minutes to study the way sunlight is striking the kitchen table.
Andy Castillo is features editor at The Recorder: acastillo@recorder.com.