The Enlightenment of a Naive Intern

The moment I first stepped foot in the natural rustic paradise that is the Inman abode, any doubts that the next few weeks would prove to be a new fruitful adventure were immediately swept away in the calm afternoon breeze. Chirping birds and a little stream flowing smoothly down a hill nearby were, needless to say, far more pleasant sounds to wake up to than the polluting sputter of truck engines and concoction of beeps and honks that were native to my home city of New York. 

However, for all that an atmosphere can do to bring peace to the mind, for one to truly find purpose in an unfamiliar environment one must give back to what has given you a fresh opportunity in a new world. Fortunately for me, I did not have to look far to find fulfilling work aiming at giving back as the Inmans were well armed with brilliant ideas for new projects and ventures to toss at me. 

My first task initially appeared innocent enough: trim plant stems and branches to shorter foot long sticks. However, with my limited knowledge of much to do with planting and growing flora, the justification for the performing of a task that became odder and odder the more I did it was something that kept eluding me as the hours passed. And then, just as my doubts had become to start crawling back, there was Crist, there to reveal to me what would immediately blow my mind, as, I would find out, it had done to his when I first found it out—for this specific type of plant, one did not need to plant seeds and wait for a sapling to grow in perfect conditions as most other plants would need, as all that was necessary was to find a good sturdy stick around 1 foot long and stick it firmly in the ground for massive growth to follow. This baffled me, and yet, when he showed me a group of massively overflowing plants with long vines and an abundance of beautiful purple flowers and revealed to me that he had planted them only 1 year previous, every chop of a branch that I had done in the hours preceding this moment were no longer empty contractions of my hand devoid of meaning, they were now a source of pride and appreciation for the magnificence of nature. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s