Nature's Place

Bluebottle on red rag background. In the dead of night they only fly in emergencies.

Curlew, keeping a eye on the sky for predators, and an eye on her little ones for their protection.

Caterpillar on wild native violet in the garden. No worries …

Kookaburra, keeping an eye out for whatever furthers his prospects for survival. It’s instinctive after all.

Green head ant, just being an ant this day.

Butcher-bird, seems to be a youngster a long time now.

Small eyed fly, or big bellied with a humped back. A fly with an eye nevertheless.

And not least, a huntsman spider. A youngster too. Plenty in the garden I have growing.

It was the end of winter just past and by all accounts summer began. As if spring wasn’t to happen this year, and all the gardens creatures were a little confused.
But something changed. There was a rebound from the sense of summer and we are now in spring-proper.

With clouds and rain and wind and sunshine, and lower temps. It’s a lovely springtime.

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What changed? The Earth sang for 9 days, a single note, as if a bell had been struck, and that bell was the Earth – click here. A single note, the way one might use a single sound in meditation, to pull all other sounds or vibrations into alignment, or harmony. Or just to drown them out.

It was a momentous event, that went generally unnoticed.

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Then it was announced the Earth would host a second moon for two months from late September – click here.  A mini moon the size of a big bus is not momentous, but it is symbolic, and it came from an asteroid belt around the sun called Arjuna. Symbolic of a helping hand to what our moon already does for us, perhaps, lending rhythm or pulse to the Earth.

So, that’s what changed. The Earth sang or cried out, under the weight of her children, us, and the sun sent a messenger, a child of Arjuna, to aid in changing the fundamental sound and rhythm of the Earth.

It’s a song, if you can hear it. In the sense and sensation, inside.

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Arjuna is a central character in the great Indian epic poem, a treatise on how to live rightly, and with purpose, called the Mahabharata. Arjuna is the son of the warrior god Indra, and in the poem he is going to war – where else. The same war we all live, it’s just the times, ways and forms are different now.

It’s the war we wage, or is waged upon us, that we call living. To get through, to be free of pain and suffering, to get back home.

That’s all …

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Why not … a new song singing now, aligning discordant notes to a brighter springtime.

Ain’t that nice … to see now, what may or may not be now.

© Mark Berkery … Click on those pictures for a closer look …
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