ctfy
"Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves." -Rilke
I fed butterflies and a skipper moth today. I came bearing little dandelion bouquets, and I didn't have my camera, just this cell phone.
It's falling into winter, but the humble dandelion is still providing food for the late season butterflies, moths, bees, flies, and numerous others. These insects and bugs will feed the chickadee, the sparrow; and the small birds will in turn feed the hawk and other predators.
The other day a hawk snatched a small bird out of the air within 5 feet of me. I felt such mixed emotions. I didn't' want the bird to die, but I wanted the hawk to survive and flourish too.
As a lover of nature, I should be more accepting of this cycle of life, but I still struggle with it. Why do things have to die in order for other things to live, why do things have to die at all? Will some day these things make sense to my heart? Perhaps I should listen to Rilke who said:
“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”
(taken with my camera phone, because...no good reason, always bring your camera! :))
"Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves." -Rilke
I fed butterflies and a skipper moth today. I came bearing little dandelion bouquets, and I didn't have my camera, just this cell phone.
It's falling into winter, but the humble dandelion is still providing food for the late season butterflies, moths, bees, flies, and numerous others. These insects and bugs will feed the chickadee, the sparrow; and the small birds will in turn feed the hawk and other predators.
The other day a hawk snatched a small bird out of the air within 5 feet of me. I felt such mixed emotions. I didn't' want the bird to die, but I wanted the hawk to survive and flourish too.
As a lover of nature, I should be more accepting of this cycle of life, but I still struggle with it. Why do things have to die in order for other things to live, why do things have to die at all? Will some day these things make sense to my heart? Perhaps I should listen to Rilke who said:
“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.”
(taken with my camera phone, because...no good reason, always bring your camera! :))