I want to assure that toad that I mean no harm. I have absolutely no desire to cause any kind of commotion, in fact it’s really quite the opposite, I’m trying to escape it. I’m just hanging out, you’re hanging out, we’re good. He should be more concerned with the songbirds in the trees, probably sizing him up. Still, I feel bad. Imagining an unfamiliar, giant figure intruding on my home makes me sympathize with the tiny creature, his black, beady eyes frozen on me as I step closer. I want only to coexist, share this beautiful day in the forest clearing. What a piece of real estate this is… the towering trees offer lush canopy from the sun, but rich, golden light shines through the cracks between leaves. Everything is green, alive and beautiful. Life flourishes here. If I were to have been born a toad in this particular forest in upstate New York, I think I’d also make my home here in this clearing.

That toad probably has no idea of how vast these woods are, no knowledge of its boundaries, or any concept of the world outside. It’s funny, that after the graduation of high school, everyone seems to be dying to leave their home town…it’s as if success is measured by the number of miles one distances themselves from the town where they were raised. Not saying I necessarily disagree, as I was ready for a drastic change as much as the next eighteen year old leaving the nest. He, however, doesn’t care to leave. I marvel at the simplicity, the absolute rarity of being content. I like to pretend for a moment that it’s not present day, with the twenty first century stresses, no planes and trains and cars whizzing by in stressful haste. I go back to the times when we need only exist, survive.

My eyes fixate on him… I fear that he is internally panicking. How unfortunate that would be, if I had rudely interrupted his peaceful afternoon and caused him worry. If only he knew of my intentions, or lack thereof. He remains completely motionless, besides the occasional pulse in his throat. Perhaps he is debating a quick dart into the nearby bushes, franticly considering the consequences of such a decision…or maybe under the impression that I hadn’t yet noticed his presence. He is, after all, expertly hidden. The rough, pebbly brown skin is camouflaged nicely by his rock of choice, but my eyes are keen. I’m always on the lookout for such things. It’d be a shame if we didn’t observe the world around us, when we’re so obsessed with everything else. It’s as if we can’t just shut up for one second and consider something besides our own existence…I know that I have been guilty of this. Slowly, carefully, I lower myself to the mossy boulder beside him- a comfortable distance, yet close enough to seem that we are each other’s company.

As I watch the little thing, I realize that he values and protects his existence as much as I do my own. I suppose that I am overestimating his thought processes, but I’d like to think not. Is he capable of emotion, or is fear just an instinctive response to larger, plausibly carnivorous beings such as myself? Is his existence based purely upon procreation and not getting eaten? Now that I think about it, on the most fundamental level, isn’t that essentially humanity as well? As a very low link in the food chain, the poor thing must be terrified pretty much daily. Although his knowledge of the world is probably limited beyond pure instinct, I must admit that there is something intriguing about such an existence. The extent of human interaction a toad encounters is the occasional small child who handles and relocates him with small, sticky hands, or an unfortunate meeting with a highway juxtaposed with the forest.

A toad knows nothing of the changing world, a place that seems to grow more strange and advanced with each passing hour. It may as well be prehistoric to his little toad brain. I have written iPhone on so many Christmas and birthday wishlists, but honestly the damn thing stresses me out every time I look at it. I think that the internet’s ability to make the world a smaller place is absolutely amazing is most respects, but the seemingly constant communication with literally the entire world gives me so much anxiety. I’d rather leave it at home in times like this, for I honestly believe that nothing is more important to my sense of wellbeing right now than this time spent in the forest. I resent anything that tries to distract me from this wonderful present reality. Why should my mind be anywhere else? I continue to be amazed daily by the cognitive abilities of human beings, and I am unbelievably thankful for the imperfect Earth that toads and people alike call home. However, I can’t help but think that humans could take a cue from the simplistic life of that little forest dweller. We tend to complicate things that were once so easy.