New Growth

Yesterday was a sad day for our nation as we remembered the attacks of 9/11. A heaviness lay on many of us all day.  It was palpable, at least in my office.  Things were somber. It soothed me to go out on the balcony and note that Puppy is putting out new leaves.  Even in the remembrance of death and loss, life goes on. And this morning, the spikey plantings in front of the apartment had put up long shoots of purple flowers.

It's clearly fall, the tree at the end of the walkway (unknown species) is covered in luscious-looking ruby red berries. The trees have been host to mobs of birds all chattering to each other, hidden by the leaves, and suddenly by some signal I can't discern, the tree erupts with the beat of hundreds of pairs of wings, all lighting out at once only to land on another tree somewhere else and carry on the raucous conversation.

A bird flew around and around the balcony, checking the top of the post as if seeking out a nesting place, even though it is clearly the wrong time of year. Perhaps he was making note of it as a possibility for Spring nesting.  Do birds do that?  Do they have their own version of House Hunters International?

This activity cheers me, evidence of a world out there that is bigger and grander than our problems, that is far deeper than my own existence, or even that of my own country and her disputes around the world. The birds take no notice.  They have no passports, yet they cross borders without any hassle. The follow the seasons, leaving one hemisphere behind, always heading forward.

There are trees which have stood in this land since it's founding...perhaps longer! There are trees that witnessed my grandfather play as a child, though he passed more than 30 years ago. These trees have withstood wars and rumors of wars, and will withstand this.

You will forgive me if I take this as evidence of a God who is beyond, who is bigger and greater, and who takes delight in each sparrow, and sorrows with each loss, but is steady and abiding and present. I can't explain it, but I can sense it...that something else, something more, something greater.