Nature's Place

A Shooting Star

P1110303b_filtered Mark Berkery

Click the picture for a bigger version.

A crop of above, for the unbelievers … :-)

Was this Jewel Bug blessed by a shooting star, or was it the photographer or the reader of this, or was it the earth it passed over? Does it matter … all that perceive are affected, by the perceived and the perception, nothing stays the same after the cosmic touch. It matters …

In ancient days, when we were less rigidly rational and perhaps more intuitively romantic, we saw significance in small things. The flight of a bird, the twist of a gust of wind or a falling star. Everything has meaning if you can read it, and it helps to know what others have seen.

What it means is subjective, personal, a matter of context. Such things as shooting stars are universal and as old as the sky above our heads and their meaning has been intuited in various ways, divined in a mind as clear and magnificent as the night sky. Your mind …

So reading the universal is aided and coloured by the context of the reader. I looked up where in our culture the shooting star has occurred and the instance that spoke was this : ‘And the fifth angel sounded, and I saw a star fall from heaven unto the earth: and to him was given the key of the bottomless pit.’

Looking down, or up, within,  see that ancient sky and all it contains now, as clear as mind can be. … are you a shooting star burning up with a flash of mystical purpose, or a rational meteorite.

Mystical purpose is a burning meteor, you wouldn’t know it to look at.

Cosmic symbolism in the ordinary life … nothing too serious.

© Mark Berkery ……. Click the pix for a closer look

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Dragon Days

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Still, in the heat of the day, overseeing its territory from rest, no less dangerous for that, to the other airborne creatures hereabouts – the vast canyons of bright empty space surrounded by deep wells of dark shadow.

To the Dragon I was invisible, a trick of being, not being anything a Dragon would fear. In the ever moving colour and form of the psyche everything is connected, and when ‘the time is right’ one thing knows another, inside.

The smaller the creature, the more distant the relationship, the less direct or immediate the connection. But the Dragon knew me, like Dragon knows Dragon, nothing to reflect on. Nothing to resist, no separation.

In being. In form it’s another matter, everything going its own way, clashing and thrashing, killing and dying, as some thing, Dragon or man.

The trick, or knack, is to slow down enough inside to slip into nowhere, as no-thing, at will, and still function some where, as some thing, outside.

A life’s work, for a man. Dragon does it naturally.

© Mark Berkery ……. Click the pix for a closer look
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Things That Fly …

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Zebra Bee. Ok, not really. A native resting on a cold afternoon.

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An unusual fly warming up by the light at night.

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Too cold to fly away, resting on the grass.

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Racing Red and blue/black winged Wasp.

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Long legged fly enjoying the rotting fruit.

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Red Assassin Bug, hunting on the flowers other creatures eat.

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Bee echo …

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Assassin nymph chasing native bee.

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Hoverfly in the spiders grasp. Bye, bye fly.

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Mating time for the ants.

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Doli fly in the afternoon.

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Honey Bee meets Spider, usually ends bad for the bee – which is good for the spider.

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Mighty wasp. She was seeking nesting sites around the ants feasting on fruit.

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Asleep in the field, not far to travel for breakfast.

Things that get overlooked, in the garden or field and on the computer. There are so many images of encounters that are never seen but once.

It may serve as a reminder of the unique character of the individuals within the one amazing nature, everything with a place.

Nothing remains the same, even when change is imperceptibly incremental the movement is always towards ‘better’.

As long as we don’t give in to the dark side, and even that serves, has its place.

And time runs out, things die, nothing remains to change.

© Mark Berkery ……. Click the pix for a closer look
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Honey Bee Central

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Individuals from three visits over the past month or so, where the creek crosses the track in Venman. They come in waves from the hive, fill up at the waters edge and home again.

Hunkered down on the side of the track, off the landing zone and out of the flight path, watching for any nearby bee at the right angle and situation for a shot or two.

Careful not to kneel or lean on one, don’t want to kill or get stung, dipping the lens tip to the water at times for a bees eye view. Hat on in case of accidents from behind, listening for the tell-tale buzz from what can’t be seen.

Air traffic observation. A flurry of landings, a scattering of take offs, coming and going in apparent confusion with rare collision until, all of a sudden, nothing. Quiet space.

A gap in the busy work of the bee, it seems, and the mind at work with them dies, no more to take my attention.

Time to look to the sense, in between.

Mind the gap …

© Mark Berkery ……. Click the pix for a closer look

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