hay you two |
(c) 2002-03jgoldberg |
So you know the great wheel turned just ever so slightly and now it is spring and work is renewal and growth and tenacity. You know, just like those little shoots that come through the ground or the cement or out of acorns or pine cones or rocks for God's sake. Hard work for sure, but the task nevertheless. Ha! throughout this crazy ordeal the daffodils and the tulips and the narcissus and the crocus and the lilies that we planted did their do, like there weren't no flood, like there weren't nothing out of the ordinary happening. And the hummingbird--a ruby throat who we'd been feeding all winter and to whom I felt an incredible sense of responsibility, since he hadn't gone south since we'd been feeding him--is another tribute to tenacity and those things that keep track of the way of all things, cause not only is he still around sucking the syrup out of the feeder, but his lady friend came back just the same too. Ha! And the trees, the magnificent trees in the backyard, standing proudly in their redwood families holding court and remembering the knowledge and wisdom of times gone by, oh yes they remind me of the continuity, and somehow they teach me about patience and grace and strength and adaptablitlity, and that all of this is somehow different from just plain old stubborn and ornery. Hmm. And the osprey is back in his tree, see, over there, right out the front window. No fuss no muss, as if everything is all right. Oblivious, indifferent, insensible to the ups and downs of the river. There he is in his osprey spot, doing osprey. Big white underbelly, wide wing span keen eye and watching them fish. Ha! His favorite branch sits out over the river and gives him a good look at the unsuspecting fish who are doing their fish errands below oblivious to the possibilities here, or maybe not oblivious, but what the hell, the errands need to be done anyway. You can't always not do the errands just because some osprey is going to swoop down and eat you for dinner at some point. So, somewhere here is the point, or the lesson, or the sticky wicket is about the fuss. Like maybe it is all fuss or no fuss. Like how I say feeling bad feels bad or feeling good feels good or chaos is chaotic, so what's the big fuss--but the trick has to be knowing and remembering that one way or another, for better and for worse it is all so impermanent or maybe insignificant. Just along the way. It's all just along the way. So the point is that incredibly, even though our house flooded, everything is normal usual ordinary in a very comforting way on the one hand and in a way that is galling on the other hand, but nonetheless everything is just happening as if there is no reason on God's green earth why it shouldn't. Amazing. |
ten acity |
