Saturday, July 11

Moving Mountains #27

I'm sitting here watching a myriad of birds outside my window. Hummingbirds fighting over the nectar, buzzing each other at the speed of light. The medium-sized birds eating seeds from the feeder. I can only identify a few, the painted bunting, the male and female cardinals. They pop on and off the feeder as if through a revolving door at a lunchtime bistro. Off the cliff there have been many hawks circling today and soaring buzzards. I am amazed at how they can get such traction off the air with so little wind.

I am an earthbound human. I love the ground and the dirt. I have no desire to jump out of plane or reach outer space in a ship. Cyber space is good enough for me. Yet these birds call out to a space deep within me to trust in an unseen rhythm of nature and to make that the focal point of relationship with nature. Thus, instead of focusing on the scary things that I know about that bring up my fears -- the snakes, little fish that nibble the skin, ants, wasps, bees, other insects and spiders -- to focus on my reaction to these things as something that keeps me in a state of tension and fear.

Birds. Yes, birds. Their freedom and their connection to the wind and the life force of nature are an understated inspiration to behold.

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