How did this get here?

 

The logs and branches burning in the campfire were once a part of a living tree.  The tree provided shade and a place for the birds to live.  The fish frying over the campfire was once alive and swimming in the river that runs alongside our camp.

The river, not long ago, was snow up at the mountain top.  The sun melted it, and gravity brought it down here to us.  This page, not that long ago, was completely blank.  It had no campfire, no burning branches and no frying fish.  Even the passing river didn’t exist until I put it here.

In fact, this very piece of paper came from a tree that once provided shade and the home to the birds.  Someone I don’t know and will never meet created it.  At the time, that person had no idea what the paper would be used for.  I expect they were hoping it would be for something noble, worthy of the tree that once lived in this forest.

Just maybe the paper would hold an important report on conservation, or a warning about overfishing.  Such, however, is not the case.  This page, if you are familiar with Murphy’s Law, gave me a papercut.  It really stung, but nobody in the camp thought to bring along any Band-Aids.

Knowing my luck, I’ll probably get an infection, and knowing what I know about the Band-Aid situation, I’m sure no one has any antibiotics, so I’ll most likely pass away from this untreated infection.  Assuming the worse, this page might end up being used by the coroner.  So, it will eventually live out its days inside some metal file cabinet, down in some dreary basement.  This has been a story about where things end up and how they got there.