Limbs, Knocked Down

As I was cleaning up the many tree limbs, knocked down by the winds of Hurricane Irene, my thoughts swirled. I was a bit frustrated that I had to spend my weekend cleaning up the mess. Then I was thankful that it wasn't any worse. Then saddened for the folks who had lost friends and family. Then accepted it as part of life. Then acknowledged that nature cleans house every now and then, as it has forever past.
Then amused that I got my trees pruned for free as a result of some butterfly who stirred the air on the other side of the world (that's how it happens, right?).
Then really amused to think how the news media and associated sponsors owe a debt of gratitude to that quiet foreign butterfly. Then reminded how the citizens of whole cities, states, and countries are brought closer together by the shared misery, curiosity, sensationalism and fear, generated by natural disasters (and by those of us who write about them).

So as I picked up the pieces, I thought about the wind and rain swirling on to the next community-another reminder that we all breathe the same air, drink the same water, and live on the same borrowed land and borrowed time.

Blue Wiggle Sneak

We sat on the boulder pitching pebbles into the calm river. Actually, little Gray did all the pitching, while I did the retrieving. Upon returning from my third trip down to the water to re-supply, I saw a blue wiggle sneak up behind my son. Little Gray never saw a thing, he just kept making rings appear on the water. I began to realize that every time I got up to get more rocks, the tiny skink would scurry away down the side of the rock, and by the time I returned he was back, inching ever so close to my son's shadow. I laughed quietly and finally pointed out the curious critter. Gray pointed and smiled like he knew it was there the whole time; then he resumed his practice.