Nature Is A Bitch. Part 1

Nature is a bitch.
Don’t get me wrong, I love nature, but lately she’s been treating me like the unpopular kid at school and is thus refusing to have anything to do with me. What a bitch!
And like that unpopular kid, I can only bask in the glory of Nature without truly engaging enough to show her just how bloody awesome I really am, on account of the fact that, well you know, she’s a bitch.

It wasn’t always this way. Once Nature and I were best friends. I would spend countless hours frolicking gaily through the woods and singing a merry tune as birds, deer and other woodland creatures fed from the palms of my hands…Oh wait…no, that was Snow White…
I would however marvel at the wonderful assortment of earthly insects. This was before I became a lady after which, I would then scream loudly at the assortment of earthly insects. I would make gloriously long daisy chains and caress the bark on trees, though not sexually you understand. I may be single but I’m not desperate…yet, and generally just spend my time thinking how insignificant I was to all the things that surrounded me.

Once, my friends and I decided to meditate in a particular forest. It didn’t matter that that particular forest has a reputation for where one hides the bodies of the slain and the fallen and is also known as a murderer’s paradise. It was majestically beautiful, hidden away from the bustle of every day life and a quiet postscript to the world waiting outside. And it’s only now as I look back in naive innocence, reminiscing fondly on my past youth, that I can truly see what a bunch of pretentious twat-waffles we were to even think about frequenting such a place. Seriously, what a bunch of bloody morons!
Anyway, after the four of us had finished our mantras, swapped clothes (don’t ask!) and wondered why all the crickets and birds had suddenly gone quiet, we decided foolishly and like the fools in a horror movie where you’re begging them to be slaughtered painfully and gruesomely because of their foolishness, to explore the rest of the forest. And that’s when we came across the bouncy tree.

This tree was spectacular. Centuries old, it looked as if it had been standing there since the beginning of time. I can’t remember what type of tree it was, but it’s boughs were thick and long (resisting urge to make lewd and obvious comparison) and when pulled, would spring high up in the air before bouncy back into place. (urge for lewd and obvious comparison becoming stronger) So we decided to go for a ride. (MUST…RESIST…)
Taking turns, one of us would straddle the huge limb (okay, I’m just gonna forego anymore tree descriptions. This is turning into 50 Shades) holding on for dear life, whilst the other three would first pull and then release it.
Soaring through the air like an magisterial awkwardly screaming bird of prey was an exhilarating experience and despite seeing my life flash before my eyes a few times and whimpering my mama’s name, it was wondrous. Also, I may have peed myself a little.
Still, it’s a moment in time that I will never forget and a testimony to the wonders of Nature.

But that was a long time ago. Since then, Nature has abandoned me and taken up with a group of bullies who are intent on making my life a misery The chief ringleaders?
Fibromyalgia and Allergy.