Given the accelerating pace of climate chaos and extinction, global political polarizations and increasing injustice I ask myself more and more often: who or what keeps us from falling?
In my walks I came across this delicate fabrication of a nest.
Small, made of dried grasses and leaves, suspended on thin threads between the tender branches of a beech sapling, it had nevertheless survived long after its occupants left. It had remained intact through November and its winds, the January snow, February rains, and a March hurricane force wind storm. Something so delicate; yet still in balance, still habitable, still functioning.
Our planet seems like this nest to me: suspended in space, tiny and delicate compared to the vast universe around it. And yet, someone or something holds it in balance. Somehow our nest-planet has survived the threats of meteors, solar storms, asteroids and gamma rays .....so far.
That moves me to thanks.
The greatest threat at the moment comes from within. Fledgling humankind, so young and so sure of itself. It dirties the nest and tears it apart.
What will help except us learning reverence for life, for delicacy, for fine balance? What will help except us becoming teachable?
I was tempted to collect the nest and show it to others. I realized in time that that would completely defeat the purpose of why this sighting was given to me.
So I share it with you in the much gentler method of photography.
The clouds are tearing apart and blue skies are showing now. But it's windy again today.
I must go up tomorrow and see how it's doing.