Asking Earth’s Forgiveness Is a Two-Way Street

For six months, I have been living on a coffee farm turned artist residency in the rolling Andean foothills of Colombia. Its 200-acres have provided the space and stillness to truly immerse myself in the language of the land. One observation in particular has stuck with me: guilt does not exist in nature. Sure, a dog might avert its eyes after chewing up your favorite pair of shoes, but the weight and duration of guilt seem unique to human experience. <img alt="" src="https://miro.medium.com/v2/resize:fit:630/1*owmqOPYh3BfkZV0QSdXuOA.jpeg" style="height:603px; width:700px" /> Pushing through trails of elephant grass one morning, I found myself face to face with a magnificent stretch of spiderweb. A black orb-weaver rested silently at its center. It was a marvel, illuminated by dew and sunlight, and my heart sunk as I realized I would need to pass through it to continue on my way. <a href="https://medium.com/life-torch/asking-earths-forgiveness-is-a-two-way-street-4af07919ca4a">Visit Now</a>