A late December in Ocala[*]
The day is overcast, eerie but beautiful as I awake and look out my bedroom window from my bed, not yet fully awake. The limbs on the trees seem to create a world of their own, intricate designs of functional chaos, a form of beauty I love; eliciting respect for nature’s artistry which we so poorly try to emulate.
That’s not quite right, it’s not that our efforts are so poor, we are a part of nature as well and nature works through us at a distance of one or more levels, depending on our inspiration; but nature’s direct work is just so beautiful it sometimes makes mine seem so small. And nature’s inspiration never runs out and nature never suffers from “artist’s block”.
I’m tempted to exclaim “oh fortunate nature” until I recall how our mother has to suffer our reckless depredations. Then I again remember that we are part of nature too, and that what we view as depredations may just be aspects of nature’s experiments.
Most humans project constantly and thus assume that our observations and motivations are the norm. I wonder how true that is. I’m tempted to generalize but perhaps my feelings and observations are unique, or perhaps they’re only shared by very few. Does that make me elitist?
So, … if our perceived depredations are nature’s experiments, do those of us who criticize them simply express our fear and insecurity, our unwillingness to accept our transitory racial role in nature’s flowing march towards perfection?
I certainly seem introspective today but there’s a comfort in knowing that no matter how badly we screw things up, in the infinite and eternal scheme of things, we are not an impediment but a link in the great chain.
[*] © Guillermo Alfonso Calvo Mahé; Ocala, Florida, December 20, 2008. All rights reserved.