Beautiful. We are part of the great spirit, one and all. We were so excited this year as a beautiful Prothonotary Warbler couple had been singing all around our house. We wondered where they might be nesting. I figured down by the lake's edge, of course.
A couple of years ago our resident house wrens nested in a wooden Spanish-style stirrup under our house in the extra large car port. Early May, like a bull in the crockery, or more like stupid reckless human, I tried to take the stirrup off its hook to see if it was with wren. As I tilted the stirrup to unhook it, 3 eggs fell out. Splat, splat, and splat. My heart sunk, but, I thought, "the wrens will nest again, they are so tough." But then the warbler couple came, perched on one of the deck chairs and looked straight at me. I knew I had destroyed their nest.
I beat myself up for days. My husband consoled me, but this was too deep and disturbing wound for a field biologist. The Prothonotary songs disappeared. Every morning I felt the deepest misery, feeling like the ax murderer of nature all day.
Then after four days, I heard the "seep, seep, seep, seep". They were back. They "forgave" me and got on with a second nesting attempt. Needless to say, I have not searched for the nest.
“If Spirit never landed upon matter, it would just be there forever, alone.” This is a very Teilhardian insight. The Jesuit mystic paleontologist was captivated by this idea - Spirit or the Divine Presence gleaming at the heart of matter.
Reading this meditation while sitting on my porch, gives new meaning to my gazing at the squirrels scampering up the tree, the Lily of the valley blooming, the trees ever so green after winter's browning and my beloved old dog CurlyBlu napping at my side, Curly and I are both old and nearing the end of our breath and so very thankful for All The Church in the Woods has awaken to me to. Thank you.
Beautiful. We are part of the great spirit, one and all. We were so excited this year as a beautiful Prothonotary Warbler couple had been singing all around our house. We wondered where they might be nesting. I figured down by the lake's edge, of course.
A couple of years ago our resident house wrens nested in a wooden Spanish-style stirrup under our house in the extra large car port. Early May, like a bull in the crockery, or more like stupid reckless human, I tried to take the stirrup off its hook to see if it was with wren. As I tilted the stirrup to unhook it, 3 eggs fell out. Splat, splat, and splat. My heart sunk, but, I thought, "the wrens will nest again, they are so tough." But then the warbler couple came, perched on one of the deck chairs and looked straight at me. I knew I had destroyed their nest.
I beat myself up for days. My husband consoled me, but this was too deep and disturbing wound for a field biologist. The Prothonotary songs disappeared. Every morning I felt the deepest misery, feeling like the ax murderer of nature all day.
Then after four days, I heard the "seep, seep, seep, seep". They were back. They "forgave" me and got on with a second nesting attempt. Needless to say, I have not searched for the nest.
“If Spirit never landed upon matter, it would just be there forever, alone.” This is a very Teilhardian insight. The Jesuit mystic paleontologist was captivated by this idea - Spirit or the Divine Presence gleaming at the heart of matter.
Reading this meditation while sitting on my porch, gives new meaning to my gazing at the squirrels scampering up the tree, the Lily of the valley blooming, the trees ever so green after winter's browning and my beloved old dog CurlyBlu napping at my side, Curly and I are both old and nearing the end of our breath and so very thankful for All The Church in the Woods has awaken to me to. Thank you.