Not A Single Tear
And God said: Let there be light! The sun shone for two days and then it rained again. Who said that?
Top of the class, this is existence. Rain has very different characteristics to sunshine but essentially the same value. Can’t do without it.
This is how it is with everything in and of existence, it serves while it is.
It serves to either keep me to the fact of things or out of the imagination of things, where trouble begins. As long as I am willing.
And the fact keeps changing so I am always reminded of it. Or it doesn’t, and I am always reminded of it.
Everything, somehow or other, eventually serves to free me of what is not good, or god. And the last thing I am freed of is the body, the portal to substantial existence itself.
That’s the fact.
The rain is an easy gentle patter on the tin roof from where I write this and outside it is light and cool. I can just make out the falling rain against the dark green of the tree and its shadows.
Crested Pigeons call to each other out in the garden in the shelter of a tree. Two are sitting on the grass, one preening the other. Now one chasing the other, as pigeons do.
The wasps don’t leave the nest very much. I have seen them fanning the chambers of the hive with their wings when it is warm but not much other activity.
When it’s cool like today they gather unmoving around certain parts of the hive. To keep it warm no doubt.
Wasps can be menacing creatures, they have a fierce look to the face which quietly says; Don’t mess with me. In the second picture a few on the left seem to be looking directly at me. Maybe they are.
In fact the whole wasp has a confidence or deliberateness of character that inhibits interference by other creatures, like you and me.
It appears the hive’s energy is primarily geared to the arrival of healthy young and defence of the hive is integral to that. There are the occasional departures and arrivals by single members of the hive. But no mass activity other than at the hive.
At least that’s what I’ve seen in the short observations I make of the matter. It’s still not mozzie free in the shade of the rain clouds so I can’t sit out there for long.
The body makes all sorts of demands, not least the one for freedom from the discomfort of itching.
Another fact of my existence today was the spider and the fly, more like a wasp really. Out on Metropolis I came across a life and death struggle.
A green leaf spider, one of the gentler looking of the many kinds of spider living on the bush, had a wasp by the tail.
What a drama, to the observer. Something more critical to the participants. You can see how the fly struggles to be free.
It looks like a mismatch; the wasp appears far more dangerous than the spider. But appearances here are just that. I watched this struggle for some time before I had to leave, and the spider was clearly in command.
If you look closely (or at the uploaded pic) you can see the spider already has a couple of strands of silk anchoring the fly. The battle already won, the struggle not yet over.
The wasp clearly flagging. Pain and death still to come. Free of the body soon enough.
I didn’t notice any shocked bystanders, or mourning relatives, or cheering crowds.
And the wasp didn’t make a sound.