on the wing

It amazes me how quickly birds go from downy blobs with beaks to fledged and flying. I located this nest one week ago and all four young were slightly feathered fuzz pops. This morning not a bird in the nest!

I met local photographer Tom Munson this morning at the nest site and we spent a couple hours capturing the fledgelings in action (him shooting, I drinking coffee). It was fascinating: the merlins, the photography -- all well worth the five a.m. alarm.

I find myself, here, emotionally attached to these merlins who do not acknowledge my existence, and who shouldn't, for they have no reason. I am neither provider, protector, nor threat. To them I am nothing.

To me however, they are everything. In that moment when they fill my binoculars, or fly inches from my outstretched arm (as one did by chance this morning), they represent everything that sustains, everything that gives life -- the good earth in which we live. Yes, IN.

If modern civilization has done anything, it has turned its back on the very thing that sustains it. Like a fortress built on matchsticks, it projects a sense of advancement, security, superiority. All on a foundation that could crumble. We have put distance between us and the natural world. (Want proof? Why do we have to refer to the world in which we live as natural?) This distance, this unconnectedness scares me. It is the voice that says, "Killing animals is cruel, I am a vegetarian." Very nice, thank you. Driving your car kills animals, turning on the light kills animals, eating your tofu kills animals, buying your jeans kills animals. However, habitat encroachment, the use of pesticides, pollution, dams, etc: at least these things kill at a distance, a distance that makes our vegetarian friend comfortable...and part of the problem.

The world in which we live? That's right. Its a living, breathing, wonderful thing. We do not sit on top of it unaffected by it as our society would have us believe. We are all a part of it, integral members who's actions can be felt by all who share it. I am learning to share it, to share it with these beautiful little falcons, who are not cognizant of my existence, but who are affected by all I do.