Hello my dear friends,
After some discussion with some of you, and some meditation on the best way forward, I’ve decided that the previous format of long monthly blogs may well have been overwhelming for some, and thus ignored or only briefly read.
That said, I will be attempting to create posts more often, and now that I have an email system installed, I will be able to post them directly to you. And, if you want to forward them to others, they can subscribe on this blog site as well.
As the Autumn colors light up our trees, and the darkness settles over us like a warm, gray comforter, I am reminded daily of our precious earth and its exquisite cycles of birth and death that we are so blessed to witness. Today, I saw a bald eagle watching over a calm Salish Sea and right next to it was a small chickadee puffed up against the cold winds, but seemingly unconcerned about its predator neighbor.
I am reminded of this lovely poem by Mary Oliver which will be my sharing for today:
In the Storm
Some black ducks
were shrugged up
on the shore.
It was snowing
hard, from the east,
and the sea
was in disorder.
Then some sanderlings,
five inches long
with beaks like wire,
flew in,
snowflakes on their backs,
and settled
in a row
behind the ducks —
whose backs were also
covered with snow —
so close
they were all but touching,
they were all but under
the roof of the duck’s tails,
so the wind, pretty much,
blew over them.
They stayed that way, motionless,
for maybe an hour,
then the sanderlings,
each a handful of feathers,
shifted, and were blown away
out over the water
which was still raging.
But, somehow,
they came back
and again the ducks,
like a feathered hedge,
let them
crouch there, and live.
If someone you didn’t know
told you this,
as I am telling you this,
would you believe it?
Belief isn’t always easy.
But this much I have learned —
if not enough else —
to live with my eyes open.
I know what everyone wants
is a miracle.
This wasn’t a miracle.
Unless, of course, kindness —
as now and again
some rare person has suggested —
is a miracle.
As surely it is.
~ Mary Oliver ~
(Thirst)
