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John, I lurked shamelessly throughout this discussion - one which
occasionally moistened my eyes, and humbled me with the knowledge that
there are good people thinking and living well.
I live in the Sonoran desert, and was mildly envious of those of you who
have described the approach of winter and all that implies for this
quiet time of rest and renewal for the coming spring. I looked over the
screen to my humming bird as he sipped at the nectar, flashing his
brilliant ruby gorget in the evening sun and wondered about all I had
read and how much of it seemed embodied in his quick motions. What a
bird of the sun...
I often wonder what his slice of time is. Whether he recognizes me as
other than landscape in his world of invisible (to me ) wing beats and
instant reaction to nearby motion. And yet in the cool desert morning,
I sometimes spot him perched on a twig strategically chosen to catch the
first warming sun - a feathered golf ball, head and feet drawn in, heart
beat slowed in the daily gamble of his kind.
Wiil I warm and wake up, before all my energy is gone in the chill night
air, and I continue my long sleep for ever? So far he has bet well, and
I watch him ruffle his feathers and stretch before taking a first
grateful sip at the feeder.
I care for him a great deal.
We all gamble in our own ways, but reading this prolonged conversation
between such fine people has warmed my cold and occasionally dispirited
soul with the sense that with enough care and attention to the slow
knowledge aspects of our place in the tapestry, we may wake to a new
morning.
My respect to you all,
David Fuller.