Mother Nature and Death are, in fact, sisters. Mother nature being the outgoing, talkative, bubbly sister that is rambunctious and full of life. Death being the reserved, and quiet one. Inquisitive yet shy, preferring to sit back and observe.

They’re both beautiful as can be – twins even – the only defining feature to tell them apart is their clothing. Mother Nature is darned in colors of bright green, yellow, white; sometimes blue. Always wearing flowy and loose clothes so that it bellows around her as she dances about. Her crown is decorated with colorful flowers, aligned with shiny pieces she picks up. Her jewelry is forged from pretty gemstones and shells that wash up from the ocean. She has an effortless glow about her, like a goddess, laughing hard and loving fiercely. Nurturing to the trees, she encourages, them to grow to the highest of highs. She whispers to the wind, challenging it to blow ever so slightly. Just enough to rustle the leaves in the wind, but not too strong as to break them off the branch. She sings, full heartedly and loudly, as she walks; carefree of everything.

Death prefers more neutral colors and shades: black, grey, brown, evergreen. She enjoys wrapping herself in cloaks, sheltering herself from the elements. She too likes to decorate her hair, only she finds beauty in things that others do not. A fallen feather: most would think it’s loaded with bacteria and germs. Only seeing the beauty and elegance – a feather that once supported a winged creature, allowing them to soar to the heavens above and dive to the depths below. Or the beauty of a dead flower; even though it is now void of its once vibrant color, there is still beauty to be found. From these she weaves a crown; dry and cracked. The stems gently poke her head, securing it in her hair. Like her sister, Death has a glow about her, only it’s not the same as her twin’s. Although strong, and vibrant, her glow has an aura of reverence, demanding solemness, and respect. She takes notice to trees who are dying, pressing her head on the decaying bark, as if to to say, I see you and I grieve for you; a final moment of respect. She buries the carcasses of creatures that she finds, so that they might have an everlasting and eternal peace. When she wanders, she goes on without so much as a peep, only listening to the sounds the wind carries as it blows.

It’s easy to tell when Mother Nature is nearby. It’s busy – birds are chirping their songs, collecting food to regurgitate back at their nests. The chipmunks and squirrels are chattering non-stop at the sight of anything that happens to pass too close to their home. The late summer buzz of the cicadas is almost deafening, as the night begins to wind down. The sound of kids’ laughter begins to dissipate as the streetlamps come on, indicating they must return home to fill their bellies. Shortly after the sun sets, the night life comes out of hiding. The crickets are having a hay day with their loud chirping. Racoons are breaking into garbage bins and stealing food from outdoor cats. Feral cats are out hunting their prey; poor rodents that are in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Death, on the other hand, is silent, not letting on that she’s nearby until the necessary time, only when welcoming you to the other side. She awaits, quiet and patient, watching events unfold before presenting herself. Always watching from the sidelines, she’s content, peaceful, at ease. She takes her time, making sure to approach only at the exact moment she’s supposed to. Knowing that she gets to share your lasts moments with you, she cherishes the time she spends watching you throughout your life. You’ve seen her before, just under the shade of a nearby tree, not realizing who she was. Confused at first, but as she smiled and waved, a sense of familiarity washed over you; like an odd wave of serenity. When you walk alone in the dark, afraid of the shadows, she’s there watching your back, ensuring you make it to your destination safely. Or when you run downstairs into the cellar, and the lights don’t work, she’s there – holding back the monsters. Whenever there is silence – situations void of noise – she is there.

She is not eager to take, but rather eager to be there in times of need. Times of despair, when all hope is lost, and it seems impossible to go on. Those days where you can’t hold it together and you burst into tears – she’s the one that gives the final push. The longer you hold it in, the harder the push she gives, knowing how better you’ll feel afterwards. For those days when the only strength you can muster is waking up, but never getting out of bed, she’s cuddling next to you, softly whispering in your ear. She is not here to inflict pain, but to see you through your pain, to make it to tomorrow.

When it is time, some are scared and angry, yelling and screaming at her; it’s not their time yet, demanding that she leaves them. She silently watches as they refuse to go, waiting until they are calm and accepting. Others are content, almost eager to move on; gladly accepting her hand that is so gracefully extended out to them.
She is neither expressive nor loud, simply quiet, and observant, tranquil and serene as she waits. Never vocalizing, she seems to almost look through you – understanding your every thought and emotion.

When you’re finally ready, she gently holds you by the hand, pulling you up, out of your human vessel. Now a spirit, you somehow feel her other hand placed lightly on the small of your back, guiding you. Matching your pace, she moves no faster than you. There’s absolutely no sense of urgency as you walk, as if it were another leisurely stroll through the park.

As you begin to see the destination of the afterlife approach, you look to her for reassurance, realizing she’s stopped a few feet behind you. You look down to see that you’ve crossed on your own. For the first time, you see her expression change, smiling at you. With a glorious gleam in her eyes, and a swell in her chest, she looks as if she’s proud of you. You don’t understand why, yet you are pleased that she feels that way.

Dumbfounded and astonished, you admire her beauty. Her face is nothing like what is portrayed in movies. Her eyes are warm, gentle, and kind. Her smile is as bright and wide as the sea; one of the nicest smiles you have ever witnessed.

She is not yearning to take you away, but rather patient and understanding; perhaps the most patient being ever conceived. As if she knew what you were thinking – to have just a little bit more time in her presence – you feel her kiss your forehead; a phantom feeling despite her being several feet away from you. Her signature way of saying goodbye. With one final gaze, she turns around and disappears back to the physical realm, on to watch over the rest of them. Graced with the sweetest goodbye, you continue on towards your next destination.