It
just doesn’t have to be onebigfat oversized drama.
Really,
it doesn’t.
I
don’t see that hummingbird who’s probing the flowers doing any sort of excessive slurping.
That
deer robustly yanked off the pear tree leaves this morning, but he didn’t fall
faint with hunger or overstuff himself.
The
goat over there eagerly accepts the apple leaf treats, even calling for more as
I leave, but she doesn’t run, beg, and yell for more.
The
dawn might rise up in grand glorious beauty, but she doesn’t have some oversized
expectation that we all need offer a standing ovation (though she really does
deserve it each and every day).
I
haven’t seen the juicy ripe blackberries cowering from the hand that picks
them, or waving to be plucked from the vine; they just s-l-o-w-l-y ripen in
their own slow unfolding.
Every
day I see the natural world doing all of its beautiful becoming, existing, dying and I am unable to detect one speck of drama in any of it.
Perhaps that is because we are smack in the middle of a balmy, smoky August day
when all things go quiet to preserve energy, to stay cool; and maybe I have
forgotten the drama because I am rooted in the center of the right-now presence
of the hot afternoon. Perhaps in the frigid dark of a tumultuous winter storm,
perhaps in the upheaving of plate against plate in an earthquake, perhaps when
the waves crash upon the nearby beach, perhaps in the rapturous awe of that one
life-changing sunset … perhaps just then I will recall the inherent drama.
But
for now, let us rest in the calm. It is, after all, what we’ve got.
All blog images created & photographed by Jennifer J. Wilhoit unless otherwise noted. Please circulate images with photo credit: "©2017 JenniferJWilhoit/TEALarbor stories. AllRightsReserved."
