Blake Inspired

Varying shades of gray, clouds hovered ominously over the park, the heavens unable to be seen. Standing by the fountain, I contemplated what direction along the concrete path I would travel around the park. However, I suddenly remembered Blake’s insistence on creating originality; attempting to recreate something proves a waste of both time and energy. Abandoning the predictability and safety of the cement, I made a new path for myself through the park, a path not traveled by anyone else.

As I walked into the sea of green, I immediately noticed a number of dirt paths emerging along the ground, grass worn down by the abundance of joggers. Throughout life, people constantly travel the same paths and never question the sense of security these laid out journeys provide, numb to the surrounding beauty. Starting off on one of these emerging paths along the main track, I veered off upon encountering a trashcan and began meandering around the park, the home of countless beings. Silence growing, my thoughts grew louder and incredibly clearer as I penetrated into the heart of the park. No radios booming. No horns blowing. No people barking. Reality began to take on a new character.

Eyes set up above, the clear skies battled the encroaching clouds undoubtedly filled with rain. Good versus evil. Light versus dark. Soul versus body. Yet, cut and dry divisions do not exist, and the colors created between these polarities in the sky combined to create a soothing pallet of pale blues and grays. The sun didn’t bear down upon my pale skin nor did the rain arrive while aimlessly walking. Other than the stubborn humidity, the conditions were fair.

Undoubtedly distant, the chirping of a bird nonetheless sounded familiar, a sound that felt like home. Branches intertwined, the mighty oaks throughout the park formed a shelter from the impending weather, their leaves appearing content no matter where they were located on these monuments dedicated to Nature’s unquestionable creative ability. Some bathe in the sun while others keep cool in the shade. Nature never fails. Man does.

People often fail to question the paths laid out before them, surrounding wonders remaining undiscovered, desires unfulfilled. As I observed joggers make their way around the main track, anxiety roused by the idea of repetition took root and began growing inside me. How can the track be demolished? The cycle broke?

Consumed by the thick air, I began to sweat as I gazed upon a slew of squirrels meticulously scanning the earth for food, their suspicious eyes repeatedly locked on my figure. Hopping. Nibbling. Jittering. An ugly, lone duck with what appears to be deep red rubber around its beak waddles away quickly as I approach; another does the same. However distrustful Nature may be of man, he remains the best mirror for its perfect reflection regardless of the fragmented image that results.

Mud, grass, and rocks all comprise my path as I now stroll along the water’s edge, a balancing act at times, a potentially sprained ankle lurking. Distancing myself from the life giving waters, I pull back the trailing branches of two willows as if I’m opening the curtains to greet a new day. Feathers on the ground, moss covered branches and humming bugs await me through the foliage. I hear rustling and see now that the barefooted man jogs in the grass. Now this looks natural.

As I approach the street, increasing distractions—screaming children, speeding automobiles, and squeaky streetcars—drown out my thoughts though never completely fading. Jotting down a few notes, I reflect on my trip around Audubon, the path that I had created to escape into a natural world so close, yet incredibly foreign. Imagination now confronts reality, and reality imagination. As William Blake stated, however, “Without Contraries is no progression.” Though I encircled the park, I ultimately went forward.