Dreaming the World

This morning is seasonable, with clear blue skies and cool temperatures. There are hints of color here and there among the greens, and in the past few days the marsh grasses have changed from green to shades of red and gold.

Its been a few years since we had traditionally chilly mornings in early September, so this second cool spell has brought on a sort of nostalgia. It also carries the possibility that we will have good fall color for the second year in a row. We are also in the midst of a long, predominantly dry period which can influence fall color for ill. or good. We shall see.

We have been out for walks on relatively easy trails and I am thrilled! Yesterday we walked some of the marsh trail at the Audubon preserve. It was a perfect early autumn day with cool temperatures, bright sunshine, and a good breeze out of the northwest, perfect for migrating birds. While there seemed to be fewer osprey, there were other raptors including a Northern Harrier hawk, a fine collection of egrets, and gathering flocks of swifts and song birds.

We had lunch at one of our favorite small restaurants across the road from the preserve. The food was excellent and affordable, as always, and we were treated to a very rare view of a hummingbird moth feeding on flowers outside our window. Just amazing! I really should not have had that piece of key lime pie.

Last night we packed a simple picnic and went to the beach. A chilly, stiff breeze from the west added some challenge to eating but kept the mosquitoes at bay, a good thing as this year they are carrying EEE, an often deadly virus. Many communities here are closing parks and other open spaces at dusk to limit our collective exposure to mosquitoes and the virus.

After a day spent mostly outside, I woke up this morning musing about the complexity of living during a time of social and environmental chaos. I find our political situation frightening and the massive and ongoing loss of species heartbreaking. I am also confused and, at times, disheartened by the general lack of interest in the human-made catastrophe unfolding within and around us.

At the same time, I realize that we humans are an expression of Nature, no matter how much we want to deny that, and our actions are Nature as well. When we are gone Nature will create yet another world which may look very different from this one. That it may take a million years is not a big deal from the perspective of a system that has created life for over two billion years.

This past week I found myself feeling the presence of a long dead shaman friend who deeply loved the beauty and wonder of Nature. Over the many months she was dying she seemed to soak in the changing seasons and the wildlife surrounding her cabin, even as she relished the adventures she sensed awaiting here on the other side. Perhaps the human condition has always been to hold curiosity, wonder, heartbreak, fear, and joy in a rich stew of feeling and awareness, and to make meaning and community as we can.