So Much is Happening Out There

Early this morning, I mean really early this morning, even before the light was glinting off the metal roof of the old chicken coop, I was sitting here thinking about all that is going on out there, 'there' being the world of nature ... all the creatures sleeping in their burrows or nests, perhaps nestled in among their young ... those sleeping in the meadow and under the pines, or returning to their places of rest after spending several hours roaming the night ... and those who are waking to another day. And, I just read the perfect poem to fit these early morning thoughts ... but first, let me tell you what led to them.

Late yesterday afternoon I stepped outside to take the sheets off the clothesline and a bald eagle was soaring overhead. He visits quite regularly now, often landing on the scraggly pine tree at the end of the driveway. At about the same time Buddy was all excited by the chipmunk that lives under our porch. He followed his scurrying with a great deal of enthusiasm as though expecting any moment the chipmunk would stop and play with him.

Then, later in the evening, an owl was hooting, quite boldly, in the woods just beyond the hollow. I couldn't see him, only hear him, but his call was loud and persistent. Other birds were calling so enthusiastically it was almost a cacophony ... but a rather nice one.

As I stood and listened, all the insects seemed to come to life. So many insects cover even one acre of ground. Millions. Many millions. Really. There's so much going on out there. When I think of all that's happening in the natural world all around this planet at any given moment ... it's mind-boggling. Also, very life-affirming.

Mary Oliver, as always, says it with love:

"It Was Early"

It was early,
  which has always been my hour
    to begin looking
      at the world

and of course,
  even in the darkness,
    to begin
      listening into it,

especially
  under the pines
    where the owl lives
      and sometimes calls out

as I walk by,
  as he did
    on this morning.
      So many gifts!

What do they mean?
  In the marshes
    where the pink light
      was just arriving

the mink
  with his bristle tail
    was stalking
      the soft-eared mice,

and in the pines
  the cones were heavy,
    each one
      ordained to open.

Sometimes I need
  only to stand
    wherever I am
      to be blessed.

Little mink, let me watch you.
  Little mice, run and run.
    Dear pine cone, let me hold you
      as you open.


~ Mary Oliver, from Evidence





For more on just how much life is out there, here's a good page, with fascinating information. I mean it. Fascinating: www.si.edu/Encyclopedia_SI/nmnh/buginfo/bugnos.htm

The photograph is mine.