Misanthrope to a Land Untouched
Written by Hairong LiuEdited by Samantha Law I’ve always had an antipathy toward mankind as a whole. While I have never had anything against anybody, the wilderness was always more appealing to me. So one day, I got in my car and drove as far as possible towards somewhere nobody has ever been - somewhere unspoiled - without any specific destination in mind.
I drove and drove, tires churning through the soil, then gravel, then snow and ice. Until there was no road at all, no sign of the cruel scars left behind by humans. I kept driving until I was stopped by a tangle of bushes that seemingly spread for miles. After navigating my way through the leaves, the sight that greeted me was truly one to behold. A vast lake spread out in front of me, silently mirroring the somber glow of the sun. The air had a sweet taste to it: cool and perfectly still. The sun gave out the most delicate warmth and light imaginable, as if it was shy to show its face. The water was clear; one could see almost see the bottom if not for the reflections it cast. Everything around me was untouched. It was pristine. It was perfect. I lay down on the snow, the fresh green grass tickling me, ready to break through and thrive with the coming of spring. I closed my eyes and let the chill of the air suffuse into me, becoming one with nature.
When I woke up my hair was frosted with ice, and upon sitting up it shook itself free from my hair. My hand reached for the falling shards in an attempt to retain a part of the perfect land that had molded itself onto me, to keep some of the solitude I had spent so long seeking. But my efforts were in vain as they melted in my palm and trickled through the gaps of my fingers. When you find yourself somewhere beautiful, the worst part is knowing you’ll have to leave it. The paradise I was in somehow seemed even better than when I first found it a few hours ago; the sun was setting, radiating its final gentle rays. To me, the sunset was the beginning of the day, not the end. The water was still; the sun drenching the lake in a deep shade of maroon. The environment that encapsulated the lake felt like a glass sculpture: something beautiful that even a single touch could destroy. I shook myself, climbed in my car, and departed. The tracks of my car and the prints of my feet being the only mark I left behind at that unsoiled, dreamlike land.
But heading back home, the reality I was heading towards at 30 miles per hour seemed less real than where I just left from. The wheels on my car digging through the ice, then snow, then gravel. The very last embers of the setting sun - which splashed a soft velvety red across darkness that crept its way across the sky - would have made me stop to admire it, but seemed harsh in comparison to the sunset I had witnessed earlier. So I closed my eyes, still driving, and I was back in paradise.
I’m standing on a high-rise balcony, peering through the curtains of rain and mist at a grey sea that melts into the grey sky. But if I close my eyes, I see further: dark smudges that I know are mountains. And high above the wan sea, the overcast sky and the drapes of fog, above love and hate, nestled into the mountainside, are my footsteps and a lake, basking in the setting sun that I cannot. Life feels grey and diluted now. A mist seems to have crept into my life, shrouding the faces of my friends and clouding my thoughts. The air tastes stale, and the grass feels bleached. I'm detached; everything I once viewed as precious no longer has value to me. A candle holds no light in the face of the sun. Though it has driven me from a life of passion, trapping me in the dark rooms and closed doors of my mind, I feel more alive than ever. When everything drifts away, my memories will stay beside me forever. While I may never enjoy the peace and solitude I sought my whole life that I once believed I had a chance of finding, it takes only one moment, one place, or one person, to make life worth living.