The alarm rang. Snuff! It snapped one's dream in half. Grudgingly getting up, one made for the clock. Right, 5 in the morning. Not the time to go back to sleep, at least not today. Meditations, checked. Filled one's bottle with water, checked. Stuffs packed yesterday, checked. Brushed one's teeth, checked. It's time to leave.

Streetlights and headlights lit the road clear, though, light pollution was 'light'. That didn't last long. As the morning sun rise, the sunlight brought colors to the silhouette of trees. Innumerable unidentified species could now be seen. Yet, dashing at 120 kilometers an hour, what's unidentified will remain unidentified. Few village houses lurked in the vicinity. From a gray-ish clouds in the direction we're heading, a rainbow that ends itself at the edge of the cloud displayed in all its glory.

This month was refreshing, with the occasional rain. It wasn't before. We could still seen patches of forest burnt down from a weeks-long drought from before. Others were remnants of droughts from years ago. Burnt down plant remains replenishes the minerals in the soil, as undergrowth, meters tall, carpeted the floor. Most of the time, it was so thick that trees never grew back; others are regenerative, with specks of green visible on branches full of brown.

There were also trees with weird figures, or maybe, 120 km/h just isn't slow enough to view it in all its radiance. Have you ever saw an apple tree where its apple isn't hung down, but balanced on its branches upwards?

A month long might seem sufficient for plants to grow back, but it didn't seem to be the case, at least they didn't grew fast enough for one to witness. The undergrowth section was still sooty black, though the upper barks from trees were not, with brown leaves still hanging on its branches, unburnt. Perhaps the fire wasn't tall enough to burn the whole tree, hence stayed only at its undergrowth? The tree died because of the fire? Of the heat? Or was the leaves deprived of oxygen? One don't know.

Suddenly, the environment dimmed, became blurry, misty. We'd entered a section enshrouded with thick mist. We noticed that mist wasn't visible on the highway section, but clearly visible on both sides, the forested section. My dad logically concluded it was due to the distance: it isn't thick enough for us to see. The distance does explain a bit, but one don't think so in this case, for one could still see relatively clearly the distant sky in the direction of the highway, while those trees in vicinity wasn't as clear. The concentration of particles was more likely. Perhaps, the trees could retain the mist, while the roads not? Oh, how wonderful is nature.

Too bad, one couldn't continue to observe as one's eyelid drooped. The next time one opened it back, one was at the final section, about to cross custom checks into another country.

We thought countries had boundaries, but not nature. Actually, that's not true. Alexander von Humboldt's Naturgemälde already introduced a boundary between nature. Similarly, since we entered the final section of the road, trees were relatively rarer compared to earlier sections. It seems to be cut at a certain point, and after that, it was the world of the undergrowth. Like the undergrowth that grew back after a drought, this time, huge patches of land were devoid of trees, at least very rare, and they were almost always stunted. Perhaps the nutrients were insufficient? Trees took longer to grow than undergrowth, and they stole the sunlight from reaching the seedlings that presumably sprouted? One don't know.

After crossing custom checks, we saw vast land on one side cleared for palm plantation. Oh, the unsightly! The monotonisity was rude for one's eyes. The observation of nature brought one into memories. One used to regret, for not climbing a tall structure located in the middle of a forest, not to see the forest, but just because it's the structure. How could one not thought of the beauty of nature, regret to not observe it more closely? Yet, how could one had known better before reading Alexander von Humboldt?

Along the road, one spotted trees that had few of their branches yellow, while the rest green. One hypothesized they were newly grown branches that hadn't yet developed chlorophyll, but one don't know. They seemingly not dying, neither do one seen such lacking in chlorophyll except in variegated leaves.

In Antifragile, author Nassim Taleb noted how closing one side of the road exponentially increased travel time instead of linearly. Where we travel, single lanes built decades ago weren't expanded, yet used everyday as cars traveled to their workplace. These guys suffered from traffic congestion every day, because of a stupid top-down design. When a single lane road with lots of cars ended on either a traffic light or a roundabout, it's a sure trouble.

During the journey, one tuned out of the environment for most of the time, reading books and articles. One article one read was Traveling At The Speed Of The Soul, the punch line being a reference to Rebecca Solnit's book, Wanderlust, that says, "I suspect that the mind, like the feet, works at about 3 miles an hour. If this is so, then modern life is moving faster than the speed of thought." One agreed. After all, how could you focus on nature if traveling at 120 km/h? Or even half that speed?

One day isn't long. One found oneself on one's way back home as time traveled. We encountered another congestion due to unsynchronized customs. There were only 3 customs opened, compared to 6 or 7 on the other side. Furthermore, the people whom worked at the 3 was much slower than those working at 6 to 7. It was a double penalty. The wait wasn't in bleakness. A dog standing before a huge puddle looking towards the forested direction. A bird, brown body, black head and tail, pecked its way as it move from left to right. Gray birds half its size flew sideways, to get out of its way. The dog gently and slowly pushed towards the bird, eyes fixated on it. Far before it reaches its vicinity, the bird flew onto a relatively 'low' branch above, low to us, but high enough to be out of the dog's reach. Seeing it not coming down, it turned its attention elsewhere.

With the same forest but on the other side of the road (you usually sit on one side of the car, and look out the windows of that side than the opposing side, yes?), one noticed some tree species seemed to grow in vicinity, while others spreaded out. Perhaps these trees hadn't had a better seed distribution method, hence they fell on the ground, and they now fight for minerals, sunlight, water, etc. Their branch even hugged each other! Though, these growing method isn't unique, forming densely and sparsely populated regions. Those 'sparsely' populated regions were carpeted by thick undergrowth.

As the evening sun sets, reddish hue caressed the clouds far beyond the horizon. The trees lost their colors, and later, their silhouette faded. But hey! We'll be back home soon!

Appendixes

1. There were also grass that grew up to few meters tall that looked like rice plants but they're not.

2. One read about the Persians, and they mentioned "Mithra" -- the fire, light, and the sun. That fits Mythra in Xenoblade Chronicles 2!

3. The last paragraph and similarly, the second paragraph, had taken some inspiration from Mio's diary in Xenoblade 3, final chapter. It is great English, in one's mind!

One now offers casual writing service to the public. Check it out!

This article is first posted on read.cash.

The alarm rang. Snuff! It snapped one's dream in half. Grudgingly getting up, one made for the clock. Right, 5 in the morning. Not the time to go back to sleep, at least not today. Meditations, checked. Filled one's bottle with water, checked. Stuffs packed yesterday, checked. Brushed one's teeth, checked. It's time to leave.

Streetlights and headlights lit the road clear, though, light pollution was 'light'. That didn't last long. As the morning sun rise, the sunlight brought colors to the silhouette of trees. Innumerable unidentified species could now be seen. Yet, dashing at 120 kilometers an hour, what's unidentified will remain unidentified. Few village houses lurked in the vicinity. From a gray-ish clouds in the direction we're heading, a rainbow that ends itself at the edge of the cloud displayed in all its glory.

This month was refreshing, with the occasional rain. It wasn't before. We could still seen patches of forest burnt down from a weeks-long drought from before. Others were remnants of droughts from years ago. Burnt down plant remains replenishes the minerals in the soil, as undergrowth, meters tall, carpeted the floor. Most of the time, it was so thick that trees never grew back; others are regenerative, with specks of green visible on branches full of brown.

There were also trees with weird figures, or maybe, 120 km/h just isn't slow enough to view it in all its radiance. Have you ever saw an apple tree where its apple isn't hung down, but balanced on its branches upwards?

A month long might seem sufficient for plants to grow back, but it didn't seem to be the case, at least they didn't grew fast enough for one to witness. The undergrowth section was still sooty black, though the upper barks from trees were not, with brown leaves still hanging on its branches, unburnt. Perhaps the fire wasn't tall enough to burn the whole tree, hence stayed only at its undergrowth? The tree died because of the fire? Of the heat? Or was the leaves deprived of oxygen? One don't know.

Suddenly, the environment dimmed, became blurry, misty. We'd entered a section enshrouded with thick mist. We noticed that mist wasn't visible on the highway section, but clearly visible on both sides, the forested section. My dad logically concluded it was due to the distance: it isn't thick enough for us to see. The distance does explain a bit, but one don't think so in this case, for one could still see relatively clearly the distant sky in the direction of the highway, while those trees in vicinity wasn't as clear. The concentration of particles was more likely. Perhaps, the trees could retain the mist, while the roads not? Oh, how wonderful is nature.

Too bad, one couldn't continue to observe as one's eyelid drooped. The next time one opened it back, one was at the final section, about to cross custom checks into another country.

We thought countries had boundaries, but not nature. Actually, that's not true. Alexander von Humboldt's Naturgemälde already introduced a boundary between nature. Similarly, since we entered the final section of the road, trees were relatively rarer compared to earlier sections. It seems to be cut at a certain point, and after that, it was the world of the undergrowth. Like the undergrowth that grew back after a drought, this time, huge patches of land were devoid of trees, at least very rare, and they were almost always stunted. Perhaps the nutrients were insufficient? Trees took longer to grow than undergrowth, and they stole the sunlight from reaching the seedlings that presumably sprouted? One don't know.

After crossing custom checks, we saw vast land on one side cleared for palm plantation. Oh, the unsightly! The monotonisity was rude for one's eyes. The observation of nature brought one into memories. One used to regret, for not climbing a tall structure located in the middle of a forest, not to see the forest, but just because it's the structure. How could one not thought of the beauty of nature, regret to not observe it more closely? Yet, how could one had known better before reading Alexander von Humboldt?

Along the road, one spotted trees that had few of their branches yellow, while the rest green. One hypothesized they were newly grown branches that hadn't yet developed chlorophyll, but one don't know. They seemingly not dying, neither do one seen such lacking in chlorophyll except in variegated leaves.

In Antifragile, author Nassim Taleb noted how closing one side of the road exponentially increased travel time instead of linearly. Where we travel, single lanes built decades ago weren't expanded, yet used everyday as cars traveled to their workplace. These guys suffered from traffic congestion every day, because of a stupid top-down design. When a single lane road with lots of cars ended on either a traffic light or a roundabout, it's a sure trouble.

During the journey, one tuned out of the environment for most of the time, reading books and articles. One article one read was Traveling At The Speed Of The Soul, the punch line being a reference to Rebecca Solnit's book, Wanderlust, that says, "I suspect that the mind, like the feet, works at about 3 miles an hour. If this is so, then modern life is moving faster than the speed of thought." One agreed. After all, how could you focus on nature if traveling at 120 km/h? Or even half that speed?

One day isn't long. One found oneself on one's way back home as time traveled. We encountered another congestion due to unsynchronized customs. There were only 3 customs opened, compared to 6 or 7 on the other side. Furthermore, the people whom worked at the 3 was much slower than those working at 6 to 7. It was a double penalty. The wait wasn't in bleakness. A dog standing before a huge puddle looking towards the forested direction. A bird, brown body, black head and tail, pecked its way as it move from left to right. Gray birds half its size flew sideways, to get out of its way. The dog gently and slowly pushed towards the bird, eyes fixated on it. Far before it reaches its vicinity, the bird flew onto a relatively 'low' branch above, low to us, but high enough to be out of the dog's reach. Seeing it not coming down, it turned its attention elsewhere.

With the same forest but on the other side of the road (you usually sit on one side of the car, and look out the windows of that side than the opposing side, yes?), one noticed some tree species seemed to grow in vicinity, while others spreaded out. Perhaps these trees hadn't had a better seed distribution method, hence they fell on the ground, and they now fight for minerals, sunlight, water, etc. Their branch even hugged each other! Though, these growing method isn't unique, forming densely and sparsely populated regions. Those 'sparsely' populated regions were carpeted by thick undergrowth.

As the evening sun sets, reddish hue caressed the clouds far beyond the horizon. The trees lost their colors, and later, their silhouette faded. But hey! We'll be back home soon!

Appendixes

1. There were also grass that grew up to few meters tall that looked like rice plants but they're not.

2. One read about the Persians, and they mentioned "Mithra" -- the fire, light, and the sun. That fits Mythra in Xenoblade Chronicles 2!

3. The last paragraph and similarly, the second paragraph, had taken some inspiration from Mio's diary in Xenoblade 3, final chapter. It is great English, in one's mind!

One now offers casual writing service to the public. Check it out!

This article is first posted on read.cash.