Near the highway, it sits peacefully a marsh. Its inhabitants are unknown, there are some aquatic plants populating it densely. Few trees poke their trunks up from the see of wetland grasses to reach the sun with their leaves. In the background, further north, there are a few roof tops, all that one can see as they are driving on the ramp.
It appears unexpectedly, surrounded by concrete, black top and a swarm of cars whose engines are roaming perpetually. People are driving at any time of the day to somewhere, from somewhere, or just driving. It is a carousel of humans always in a rush.
Amongst this craziness, the marsh is quiet, peaceful and undisturbed. I am not sure what keeps her in place, and how comes nobody invested to transform it into just another concrete structure. At times I feel that it is a mirage, a fantastical image superposing over the urban world. But, the marsh is just as real as it can be.
For some reason, it reminds me of my Mom. She was just as quiet, undisturbed and beautiful, in the midst of a world who forgot its meaning and purpose. Under the sun, the marsh glows golden, shining under the blue sky. On a late afternoon, sometimes in the fall, the light will become diffuse, and the image becomes a little hazy. Particles of air seem to disintegrate and disappear just like a lost memory.
But it comes back to life the next morning. Memories came back bright and clear, as everything happened yesterday. In the marsh there are birds. You can see them at times, but there’s no way you can hear them. The noise of running engines is booming.
One time, in the middle of her greatest sufferance, standing up on the side of the bed, after a night of pain and restlessness, she looked at the open windows, and with a smile she said: “Listen to the birds! They are so beautiful.” I couldn’t listen because I wasn’t at peace, but she stood quiet and just listened. Is what she loved, the simplest aspect of the world.
The marsh sits in a forgotten corner of the world, but it’s beautiful, serene and undisturbed.
words-of-mine 