September 2019


Photo By HOSNA

Every time that I walk to school I see these beautiful trees in Broad street. The land here is repleted with many trees that are planted with an amazing design that line in a nonhuman style which is called nature. Some of them are still green while some others are changing their colors into yellow, orange, or red. It is Fall and I smell it within these beauties. The weather is changing from the Summer to the Winter and that is why sometimes I feel cold, sometimes hot. It reminds me my childhood in Iran due to all similarities between the nature here and back home. The trees, the whether, the Sun, the clouds, and all in all the nature are the same. However, I feel there is something wrong here. Although the nature does not talk to me with the human language, I feel some silent sounds as if many people are talking. This time I try to listen to them and I want to be all ears . Whether they come from my imagination or from the nature, I found the interwoven feelings between these two which are both sweet and bitter.

Photo by HOSNA

The virtual sounds of the virtual people are a combination of laughing and shouting. Honestly, I can not recognize which one is the fact, however, I feel both sad and happy. It seems crazy, but my mood is really changing in a moment. Such a pretty landscape and the sounds of cheering create me a happy time, but suddenly a feeling of fear, anxiety, stress, and the sounds of group of people who are crying make me upset and nervous. The smell of the grass and trees lead me to see here as my hometown, but all of a sudden I am afraid as if I see the shadow instead of the reality. I have been thinking about this feelings that sometimes I am home and sometimes I am million years far away from. The nature causes a heavy feeling in me that every time I lose myself exactly the time when I find it. As I am walking between the two sides of the street and surrounded with the nature I feel that the sounds might be for the real people in the past whose voices were not load enough to be heard, but their mom- the nature- heard it and still has been talking about them with everybody who is really matched with and hear from the nature. And I think that it is telling me different stories by showing me different colors that might be the symbols of its children in the past. I am so proud of it because I feel that the nature will tell my story as the others’ being told to me, to the next generation even if it will be written nowhere.

Photo by HOSNA

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