“On top of Old Smoky all covered with snow”—a fitting phrase for a frigid volcano. Dressed to the hilt in white purity, yet seething with flowing lava only for the infrared to discern. Climb up and feel the way to the summit. Every line, fault and blemish is out in the open and on the line for all to see.
Not many peer beneath the surface to care about the underlying vegetation and microscopic world which thrives— very well, thank you—when left on its own. Experts know best how to make the soil richer for the showiest of blooms to appear annually; yet something dies with the added fertilizer. The artificial chemicals do not do justice to the existing organic compounds and disrupt the natural flow of its maker’s intent.
The butterfly flutters by and makes its normal rounds to gather nectar. No one doubts its instinct; yet the “knowers” must change the environment for the better. Not many animals roam here any more as the habitat has been altered to suit man’s needs. The sabras of the mount find other remote roosts to breed in and lay their heads. Isn’t progress wonderful? To what end must nature suffer the intolerable persistence of the civilized wonders of this world? Perhaps naturalists are correct and each element fends for itself in its own rightful way. Evolution is just around the corner. Call again tomorrow for an update.