Summer School

Monarchs #4 & #5, female and male on common milkweed

Landscape

By Mary Oliver

Isn't it plain the sheets of moss, except that

they have no tongues, could lecture

all day if they wanted about

spiritual patience?  Isn't it clear

the black oaks along the path are standing

as though they were the most fragile of flowers?

Every morning I walk like this around

the pond, thinking:  if the doors of my heart

ever close, I am as good as dead.

Every morning, so far, I'm alive.  And now

the crows break off from the rest of the darkness

and burst up into the sky -- as though

all night they had thought of what they would like

their lives to be, and imagined

their strong, thick wings.  

"Isn't it plain the sheets of moss . . . could lecture all day if they wanted . . . "  School is out and it is time to listen and learn from moss, insects, birds, trees and the flowers in the field.  They may not be able to formally lecture to us, but they are there to teach us nonetheless, if we care to listen.  I suspect one lesson is simply that they are amazing.  Anything that has evolved and found a niche in nature has an amazing quality and something to teach to those who listen.  

A couple of months ago, I had the good pleasure of sharing my green iguana, Harold, with an after-school science class.  The students ranged from six to nine years old and my little presentation was on reptiles.  I need to say that had you asked me ten years ago if I could imagine myself having an iguana, I would have said, "never!"  Never say never.  It's a long story, but I find myself in the unusual position of caring for and opening my heart up to a cold-blooded reptile named Harold.  Iguanas are amazing creatures, and Harold is no exception.  As I was sharing my reptile with this group of students, I was mentioning that anytime you spend time with anything in nature, you should be prepared to be amazed.  This little girl started bopping up and down in her seat and pumping her hand in the air . . . "I love snails!" she exclaimed.  "Aren't they amazing?!" I replied.  We talked a few minutes about the wonders of snails.  How fun!  Snails and the children who delight in them make me happy.   

Insects on wildflower

           

The more I explore the natural world, the more amazing it becomes to me.  I suspect I could spend the rest of my life wandering the trails and wild places in my small neighborhood and be amazed and delighted every time, and "if the doors of my heart ever close, I'm as good as dead."  

The monarchs above were found as eggs in our schoolyard.  I have fifteen more chrysalises that will open in the next few days, and I will release them all into the wilds of my backyard.  I'm hoping that I'll find more eggs to take in and raise in the days and weeks ahead.  Each monarch I have had the pleasure of raising is unique, and every time I watch one grow and transform it is amazing.  Aren't insects amazing?!  I don't yet know the flower and insect above by proper names but hope to learn more about them in the days ahead.  For now, I just enjoyed spending a moment with them and taking their picture on a lovely summer day.  

Here's what I think . . . when we take time to appreciate the small wonders in this world, we are reminded that we are all small wonders in this world.  Let us imagine and remember who we are.

. . . the crows break off from the rest of the darkness
and burst up into the sky -- as though

all night they had thought of what they would like
their lives to be, and imagined
their strong, thick wings.  

A wonderful summer to everyone!