October comes Late.

Sometimes, at night, when the roads are almost clear, I really appreciate driving, and in no small part that's due to the closeness it brings me to nature, and my machine. Shrills and grumbles of the machine and the howling of wind both feel so primal, and every time a person intrudes, my peace shatters, and just even that little bit of reprieve from humanity lets me know that I really like nature and the solitude it brings. But in a deeper sense, other than escapism, the reasons for liking nature are perplexing. Maybe it has to do with the way everything intricately fit together so wonderfully, leaving us in awe at something much greater than man could have had the capacity of mind to make such a tapestry of life. But then, the same argument can be made for the human body as well, a maze of pipes and symbiotic micro-organisms working together so incredibly complex that we still don't know how we work. Or possibly, it has to be the beauty in the trees, or gorgeous views that makes you feel you see the world and the colors of the wind. But again though, there are enjoyable people to look at, eyes that hide eternity and titillating figures that make you marvel in a different sort of way. So in terms of level of craftsmanship, there's no difference between the two things.

I conject the reason why something is so much better than the other is the work of time. I spent a lot more of my time with people than with nature, so then nature naturally becomes a more relaxing environment. The reason this happens is most likely due to our capacity to handle difference, which is to say that it's crap, but we can manage for limited durations provided we are prepared.

As most people are not Viggo Mortensen, we tend to approach nature with preparation and gear, sprays that drive away living things, clothes that protect us from the rawness. We show up in armor, otherwise, things like bugs can surround us, protruding thorns, branches and bushes can scratch out skin, rocks can cause havoc with our feet, and even bears could maul us. And possibly the most important thing is that when we get slightly uncomfortable, get sick, get hurt, we immediate leave and seek refuge back in what's known to us. And since our trips to nature are always short, we tend to leave with fond memories, which constantly fuel our desires to go back, because the fresh air, quiet and serenity are usually in line with the purpose of getting away. In the end, we are nothing more than tourists, lamenting the short duration of the vacation but yet fully aware that longer would bring about obligations that we don't really want. We observe nature, and it's beautiful, so we love it.

Unfortunately, we can't just watch people, nor choose when to make our presence known, nor when to leave. Yet, just as unfortunate, we do take a similar approach to people as we do to nature. Whether we realize or not, we prepare ourselves before people. We polish off that armor, put on some makeup, then present a self that we want to show, and all the world's a stage.

The interactions are brief as we play the role of observers, trading greetings, minor concerns, annoyances, complaints, jokes when the paths eclipse. Yet, if that's all, I think most people would be quite alright, because the roads don't intersect often and there's less likelihood to develop any kind of obstructions. If we can all be tourists in another's life, the resulting superficiality would not bad, in fact, it'd probably be a very good time.

Don't take that to mean the end of problems, because it's not, rather it just means we don't have to deal with the annoyances of being a participant in someone's life. I am me, you are you, it's simple like that, there's no interference, but if my life and your life run crisscrossing routes, then what is mine is yours and yours is mine, and and my domain has acre for you, your domain has space for me, I put a chink in your armor, you dent my armor, I open a crease in the door to me, you give me peeks, I don't completely understand you, you don't get me, yet we both want a little from the other, then everything becomes very confusing, frustrating and can't be easily associated with particulars or individuals, but instead just leads to flight, or more armor and makeup. "Let's take a break. Let's start from the beginning. Let us be tourists once again, so we can both present our best and really care about the impression we're making."

Even if we can forgive transgressions easily like that, it's hardly in our best interest to continually restart the same thing over and over again. It'd certainly feel like wasted effort if we worked to grow a peach tree to only discover that it grew apples instead, so we'd cut it down to try again. But life always grows apples, so we'd better learn to like them, or we're constantly going to be disappointed. And if we worked at it, we'd probably get pretty good at making apple-based foods, which are certainly a lot better than constantly replanting and waiting for peaches.

Being able to accept the taste of apples depends a lot on attitude and the willingness to try, because it's always a struggle, and it's always hard to fight to desire to smash a couple against the wall to make yourself feel better. And regardless of how much we loves apples, we could probably always love them just a little bit better. I probably don't really love nature, and quite possibly, you don't really love nature either, but we're smart enough to know when to avoid it. But despite our best efforts, we'll always have apples in our lives, and that's suppose to sound foreboding and ominous, because invasion of apples is quite serious and will need a lifetime of struggle to overcome.