Have you ever heard a song and, as you listen, a scene begins to unfold before your mind's eyes? A scene which could be too beautiful, too awesome, or too horrific to simply keep to yourself? And you feel that, if you don't find some way to capture that scene, to root it in this physical world of ours, something amazing could potentially be lost to the netherworld of your mind, never to be witnessed again?

Well, this is what I see when I listen to the song Creation of Earth by Thomas Bergeson.



Drip. Drip. Drip.

Drops of water, falling slowly, delicately, from above. Grey clouds swirl, expand, grow, forming a rumbling, angry beast ready to burst forth with awesome power.

The drops begin to fall faster onto the blackened landscape, steam rising from the impact. Soon, it is but a wall of water falling, and steam clouds everything. It rises up to meet the raging thunderstorm in the sky, forming an impenetrable wall of grey.

Then, suddenly, a powerful explosion pushes away the clouds, away the steam, revealing the same landscape from before. But look-- there! A mass under the ground, under the dirt, slowly rising up. The earth falls from the figure in a ring around it, revealing a majestic tiger.

The tiger stands up, shaking its fur before letting loose with a loud roar.

Everywhere, masses begin to rise in the same manner as the tiger, shaking off the water droplets. Where each droplet falls, something grows. A blade of grass here, a sampling there. Soon, the entire region is covered by animals and lush, vibrant, newborn vegetation. A flock of blackbirds take off for the skies, where the once-ranging storm has changed to docile white wisps, floating lazily.

A colourful bird spreads its wings and takes flight as well, gliding over the new plant life. Around it, sapling grow rapidly and become tall trees, reaching up to the blue skies with branches that swell with leaves and small wildlife.

The bird continues to ride the wind currents, nodding its head to the other creatures which are moving into the habitats. There-- a trio of wolves howl in greeting. There-- a herd of horses run past, the steady drumbeat of their hooves on the soft soil soon blending in with the crescendo of a massive waterfall.

Tucking its wings in, the bird dives down the length of the crashing water, unfurling its wings soon enough to allow it to glide over the river being fed. Feathers outstretched, it flies down the length of the water, swooping past crocodiles and alligators, flying over birds wading along the banks, and dodging the fish that jump out.

Soon, though, the bird departs from the river and rests in a massive redwood tree which overlooks the land. By now, the blackened landscape from before is but a bad dream, a memory to be forgotten.

The bird, the tree, and the land begins to recede. Slowly at first, but gaining in speed until the whole of the planet can be seen, rotating in space. The stars and nebulae, comets and galaxies, all of them shine briefly until the light of the sun peeking out from behind the planet surpasses them all. Even from this distance, the lush green land, the pure white glaciers, the golden deserts, and the deep blue oceans can be seen. This is nature. This is true, undefined beauty.