I Wonder

November 3, 2024

Sunrise, October 28, 2024

I wonder how a cloud feels as it dances across the sky. Does it notice when the wind is strong and when the wind drops into calm? What does it feel like when the sunrise lights it up and changes its color so completely and so boldly for all to see?

October 24, 2024

I wonder how a tree feels as its colors change? Does yellow feel different than red or orange or green? Does it notice the changes the way I notice the changes in my face as I grow older, both recognizing and not recognizing its own reflection?

I wonder how a tree feels when its leaves fall? Does it feel as if the world is ending, that life as it has known it is forever changed? Does the tree know this is just a season, a cycle, that the leaves will most likely come again in the spring? Does it feel freeing, like a shedding of old skin and making way for the new?

Female kingfisher hovering - notice the red under her wing which identifies her as female. Kingfisher is one bird where the female has the bolder colors!

I wonder what it feels like to hover like the kingfisher above the water and then dive straight in at full speed? Does it feel like time stops in that pause just before the dive? Does it feel as exhilarating as it looks to plummet into the water? Does she close her eyes to keep the water out or is she able to keep them wide open as she goes in?

She aborted the dive, but just look how gorgeous her wings and tail are!

I wonder what it feels like to sit so still, only your head turning slowly, fully sensing all that’s around you like a red-shouldered hawk? Does the hawk feel the adrenaline surge at that first ripple of movement in the grass the way I sometimes do with a bird in the bush? When she takes off, wings spreading, legs leaping, one smooth motion so quickly to her target, does she feel that flow where time stands still like I once felt digging a volleyball?

Red-shouldered hawk - I think they are just one of the most beautiful hawks.

And there she goes - these next three shots taken in 3/10ths of a second. She is fast.

I wonder how it feels to be a yellow-rumped warbler, flitting about in the tree and eating tiny bugs, surrounded by a dozen of your closest friends. Does the movement feel as joyful as it appears? Do these little birds feel as sassy as they sometimes look?

Such a look - and a view of the golden crown on the top of their head that so rarely shows!

I wonder what it feels like to be the mist, rising from the water, to move with such lightness and grace, wafting like smoke without the smell. I wonder what the water feels like at the moment it moves from liquid to steam and begins to rise up - is it surprised to find it is floating?

I wonder what it feels like to be a male cardinal, never able to hide except in deep shadows until that brief time in the fall when the trees turn red and welcome him fully, safely, into their arms? Does he feel a sense of belonging in that brief moment? Does he laugh when the tables are turned and his mate has to look harder to find him in the leaves as he has done with her all year?

I think he’s smiling.

I swear she’s saying, “Where did you get off to sweetheart?”

Imagine what this world would be like if we all wondered more and assumed less? What if we remembered that we never truly know the full experience of another any more than we know the experience of the birds, the trees, or the mist?

I wonder if avocets make assumptions or if they explore each new moment for only what they can perceive. Do they make unfair judgments too?

When I pass by political signs that make my skin crawl, I remind myself that I know kind, loving people who are somehow swept up in ideologies I don’t understand. I find myself making assummptions about big trucks with flags and having to remember that I don’t know anything about the person inside. In that moment, I’m trying to ask a question like, “I wonder who this person loves and who they have been loved by?”

What’s it like to dive underwater and swim a hundred yards before popping back up like a pied-billed grebe?

Imagine the rich tapestry we could build if we stopped to listen to the experience of each being with kind ears and an open heart? Hurt people often hurt people, but kindness can break the cycle.

Giving each other our presence, like this yellow-rumped warbler gave me his, if only for a moment.

I read an article by Amanda Ripley in the Washington Post this week about a strategy that uses wonder and imagination to help us make it through scary and uncertain events like this election. In a nutshell, the strategy is:

1. Cultivate optimism as much as you can prior to the event. Take positive action where you can and resist the urge to find certainty where it doesn’t exist. Stop obsessively following the media, do things that build your spirit, and visualize a positive “after”.

2. Spend a few minutes imagining the outcome you are afraid of and writing down all the positive or at least not terrible things that could come from that outcome. This is called “predemption” and at least one study shows that it is actually a resililency booster regardless of the outcome.

3. Go back to cultivating optimism or distracting yourself, preferrably with something that helps you get into a state of flow - gardening, meditating, praying, painting, exercising, listening to music, walking in nature, or whatever works best for you.

4. Last, on the day of the event, let yourself feel what the worst-case scenario feels like in your body for just a couple minutes. Take note of the feeling and remember that you have felt this way in the past - and that you have been resilient.

(Link here, apologies that it is behind the firewall, this should make it free for 14 days but I understand you have to create an account to use it: https://wapo.st/3AwEkXu )

Heron in his flow state.

Whatever the outcome of the election, we have work to do on rebuilding trust and community in our neighbors - local neighbors, national neighbors, and global neighbors. Whatever our path forward is, we will need all the creativity, wonder, and resilient hearts we can find.

In the web of life, we are all connected. There are no “others”.

If you are in the US - not in Arizona - and you haven’t changed your clocks this morning, now is a good time to do so! Personally I’m happy the sunrise will be a little earlier for a bit!