I was inspired to write this when the city cut down one of the biggest, most beautiful trees in my neighborhood to build a community swimming pool, and when I began discussing my personal beliefs about nature in a forum on this site. Revised (marginally) from its original.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. God owns all!
Aang stood alone on the cliff top, staring toward the horizon, where the gray sky was slowly transforming into a soft, rosy pink, and the first golden rays of the sun were pushing into the sky.
The ocean breakers hissed hundreds of feet below him, where the island's base met the sea in a swirling, spitting wash of white foam.
The young Avatar inhaled deeply, sighing as the cool breeze ruffled through his short, newly grown black hair, and relishing the feel of the satin soft grass beneath his bare feet. An enormous oak tree was several yards away, swaying in the soft wind. He didn't often get the chance to just sit and enjoy the beauty of the world around him, and the airbender wanted to take full advantage of the four days they had at the rendezvous point before the invasion force arrived.
Last night they had collapsed, exhausted, onto the ground beside Appa to sleep, without a second thought. Sokka and Katara hadn't even bothered to pull out their bedrolls, content with sleeping on the grass.
Now, Aang was alone, up before anyone else, even the sun. Uneasy thoughts laid siege to his mind, keeping him from the calm oblivion of unconsciousness that was sleep. Seeking a solution, he had come up here, to the island's edge, to absorb himself in the serenity, and to hopefully calm his warring mind.
The sun rose steadily, and with the awakening of the enormous star came a chorus of colors and a symphony of relaxing birdsong. Aang breathed through his nose as he spun gracefully and sat down with flourish, his legs crossed and his bare arms and shoulders shivering with pleasure as the warming light coaxed the soreness and fatigue from his limbs.
He sat there, meditating, for what seemed like hours, listening silently to the harmony and wonder of nature around him and slowly freeing his mind from the thoughts that acted as iron shackles, binding him to his duty.
When he broke from his sleep-like, sedated state, the first thing he realized was that the sun had fully emerged and was now soaring with flying colors, and the sky was the most beautiful shade of the purest light blue.
The second thing he noticed was voices. Drifting on the wind from the camp they washed over him like a gentle breeze, and a muffled grumble echoed against the cliffs—in such a tone that could only be a hungry Appa.
Aang's thoughts were clear, and for the first time in months, he truly felt like a twelve-year-old boy again, no worries, no cares, only knowing the simplest form of childhood pleasure—fun. He was finally at peace with his world.
The airbender took a breath, and stood. He turned to look at the oak, feeling within him a calm sense of assurance that he had done the right thing by seeking enlightenment amidst beings who were experts at the art.
A distinct female voice reached his ears. "Where's Aang?"
The young Avatar glanced eagerly toward the camp, but stopped himself. His stormy gray eyes drifted toward the ancient tree's highest boughs, where the wind played hide-and-go-seek with the leaves. Aang smiled, and his face glowed with child-like radiance as he stared up at the oak with awe and an innocent reverence for the organism.
He reached forward, and his fingertips brushed the rough bark, worn and twisted with age and years of experience.
"Thank you," Aang whispered, letting his hand remain pressed against the tree's trunk. "You have given me what no one else can."
Stepping back, he bowed, pressing his fists together, his head bent in submission and respect. Then he stood straight.
After a lingering stare, he turned from the calmness of the cliff top and moved off toward the reality of camp, with a heart more prepared for what was to come.