This afternoon I went on a walk around Oberlin for the first time since returning from New Mexico. The sun finally made an appearance, and I was reminded that pretty much the best time to be in northern Ohio is RIGHT NOW! Fall is just starting to show its colors, wild fields are still lush and blooming, the air smells sweet and warm, and bunches of little critters are still hopping, flying, and scurrying around through the vegetation.
|...for amber waves of...ornamental prairie grass.|
I found myself mesmerized by the iridescent sheen of a fly as it stood atop the breast of a decaying catbird. I admired the fine detail of feathers that would soon disintegrate, and imagined myself as a vast collection of reassembled bits gleaned from dirt, and dust, and countless little lives that preceded my own. Elements present in my hair that lived in the feathers of a bird; atoms in the tip of my finger that lined the retina of a prehistoric wolf; traces of water molecules that may have spewed from the mouth of Old Faithful; iron in my blood once suspended within a shockwave sent out after the death of a star...perhaps one observed and studied by distant eyes I'll never see.
Not to be morbid, but when I die, rather than moldering away inside some shiny box, I'd prefer to fall apart quickly--turn into a sprinkling of wind-blown dust and let all my little bits rejoin this cycle of decay and reassembly. Think of all the little things I might turn into someday!