The Blessing of Disaster

A woman made a pilgrimage to the mountains. She joined a guided tour, for the mountains were wild, and it made sense to travel with one who knew the way. As the jeep climbed higher, she gazed at the wondrous landscape, marked by stark contrasts. A mature thicket of trees was abruptly replaced by an expanse of jagged trunks. A tumble of surprisingly uniform rocks streamed downward - strewn with vivid wildflowers in full bloom. The jeep rounded a bend and there was a tiny forest of fresh, young maples, bright green leaves reaching for blue sky.

While the woman drank-in her surroundings, the guide described mighty forces that had carved the panorama. A flash of lightning created a hauntingly lovely stand of blackened branches, now home to particular wildlife that thrived in just such environs, an avalanche was responsible for the flower-strewn river of rock, a mudslide for the mountainside meadow, dotted with daisies; disease had wiped out leaves to reveal pure artistry in gnarled branches. The woman was surprised to realize that the most GLORIOUS pockets of scenery spawned from DISASTER! Natural disaster.

She viewed the landscape with new eyes. What would she see if lightning and fire and avalanche and mudslide had never occurred? How would this vista appear had disaster never struck? Rolling green hills, she mused; pretty enough, but no comparison to the bold magnificence of the present view. No comparison at all.

See it right.

All is well.