The Winged Life and Other Life Lessons

To steal a phrase from a dear friend: "Boy howdy! Is it November already?!"

Who knows where that phrase came from, I guess I could ask her, but it still brings a smile to my face. And seriously, it's the middle of November?! Occasionally I catch myself thinking it's early September. I'm not sure if time really passes more quickly as you get older, or if my internal clock is still screwed up with the seasons here. It's just beginning now to feel how I think Septembers should feel, so maybe that's the problem...yes, I'm sure that's the problem. It couldn't be that I don't really pay attention to the calendar. That couldn't possibly be it.

I've been reading a book, well, I'm reading a few books right now, but this particular book I'm reading is one about the writings of Henry David Thoreau. I've LOVED it. I'm well aware that I'm a sentimental fool, but I love dreaming about living as he did at Walden Pond. As a mother, I'm not sure I could do without a Walmart, but I think I could manage. I grew up with a mother who liked doing things the hard way, which included making everything possible from scratch and growing as much of our food as possible in our own yard. Can you imagine? The peace. The perspective.

One particular story Thoreau tells (and he tells it MUCH better, but you'll get the idea) is about a bug who lays an egg inside a small hole in an apple tree. For some reason or another, it doesn't hatch, but stays dormant, living in the tree for years. Eventually, a farmer cuts down the apple tree and makes a table out of it. The egg still lives, now in the table. Years pass. For whatever reason, possibly a warm tea kettle set on top of it warms it enough, but eventually it hatches. The insect then chews its way out of the wood and flies away.

Suspend your disbelief for a moment and consider the possibilities. To me, this is a poignant and beautiful allegorical tale of the potential within all of us. Thoreau had a gorgeous understanding of the divine and of the divine nature in each of us. Ponder for a moment what could, if given the right circumstances, grow in you and help you fly. It's definitely there, we just have to create the right environment and then allow ourselves to soar. I loved this story.

I've also been thinking a lot lately about my ability to reflect. I used to be able to ponder with the best of 'em, and find joy and beauty and reason for introspection in literally anything but most especially things related to the natural world. I guess I could use the excuse that life passed a bit beyond my control when I got married and started having children, but wouldn't you think those beautiful relationships would fill me with even more reason to reflect and be grateful? Whatever the reason, I've been living an un-insightful existence for a while now. Thanks to Thoreau, I found reason to turn within, and to also consider everything without and realized that while an orderly life makes it easier for me to put my thoughts in order, it is not necessary. I can and should and need to find ways to be thoughtful regardless of my external environment.

This probably doesn't make sense to anyone, but it makes sense to me, and I've always found writing cathartic, so feel free to skip ahead:)

Anyway, I love trees, and creeks, and mountains, and the wide openness of prairies, and sunsets, and big skies, and feeling small but still important somehow.

Stay tuned for lighter and more fun stories and pictures...:)