BEING THERE: NATURE’S ENDURING CONVERSATION

This blog is featured in Eric’s Hope: (http://erikshope.wordpress.com/2013/07/03/being-there-natures-enduring-conversation-by-guest-blogger-karla-boyd/) and in Spirited Women. With planes arriving at 3 am with weary travelers back from the east coast ice storms, this blog is replicated to warm some bones.

I wake up to a hot shower, liquid hot packs on tired shoulders. Later I climb a mountain trail close to home. At the lookout, I gaze over a vast panorama and inhale deeply. The view looks good from here.

Heather Armstrong, writer and lover of Super Mutts, Chuck and Coco, took her daughters, Marlo and Leeta, on an outdoor adventure. Hand gliding, Crocodile Bungee Jumping or Volcano Boarding you might ask? No. Who needs to lean over cliffs when we’re cut off from our roots?

Heather packed her kids in the car and drove 3.5 hours to Arches National Park in Utah in the snow.  The oldest daughter after seeing this magnificent red-orange, brick-hued arch quipped, “Awesome, being out here is, like, nothing I’ve seen ever.” With the media’s unruly playground, that says it all. Nature, it’s like nothing we’ve ever seen.

In our American scarcity conversation, our hunt for the next adrenaline rush, we ignore the obvious. Connect with Mother Earth. We all need to recharge, powered by slow walks and energized runs out onto grassy knolls. Nature is a magnificent host anchoring us, granting inspiration to fuel our day and stay in relationship.

I love nature’s creatures. Okay, I love most of them. But in nature, there is an enduring conversation that is constantly teaching us. As William Shakespeare said,  “One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.” That certainly was true for me yesterday.

I was at a beautiful gathering in a community on acres of rolling hills, wisteria and gardens that overlook fountains and a little Buddha planted amidst bright yellow and indigo flowers. I was there in birthday celebration of a woman’s life of 92 years, her contribution inspiring. As I walked toward the assembly hall, I was surprised to see the gathering crowd staring off at the grass as if they had not seen green earth before. Granted many came from nearby brown hills with temperatures sweltering in the high 90’s, but this is a wet ocean town. The grass is always green.

As I approached so did a friend, a community resident. Momentarily I saw the grass come alive. Bryce glided through the crowd and swooped the snake up in one smooth movement, holding him then in the air. People gasped. A photo was taken. Bryce ceremoniously draped the snake around his neck, smiling. Astonished vocalizing ensued. Some laughed. The snake squirmed. Bryce departed, snake in tow.

Later, I asked Bryce about his experience. To my admiration he responded, “Poor guy, he got scared when people laughed.” My snake phobia melted. Bryce confided he felt himself a snake in a former life. He recognized his great-grand nephew. We both smiled. We’re all connected. What better way to be reminded of this interrelationship than in celebration of a 92 year-old life, engaging nature’s paradise?