Pratt: Nature's ability to heal is amazing
What to save and what to delete is the question not only when writing and editing, but in the living out of our lives.
It has ever been true that there is only so much we can hold closely, whether we are speaking of the material, mind or spirit.
I took a mid-day break for lunch in Lubbock with women I hadn't seen in a long time. When I left to drive the 60 miles back home, the day that began with a cloudy sky was bright with sunshine and I felt somehow regenerated.
Heading back upstairs to write, I note the big backyard pecan tree that just keeps on branching and leafing at the slightest opportunity even after tough tests of drought and a sudden freeze that left most Texas trees wounded, dead or in recovery mode two or three years ago.
New branches by now fill in the missing gaps, making shade on the west-facing deck even better.
Nature's ability to heal is amazing.
For the first time, I saw that the birds of different varieties rebuilt what looks to be a shared nest, reconstructed now after a bad hail storm knocked it on the ground in the middle of our lawn.
As I mentioned last week, that huge bird nest was being used to rebuild individual nests, or so I assumed because several types of birds were picking apart the woven straws and flying up into the tree. Hidden by leaves, new nests were being constructed.
But no, it seems to be mostly intact as one huge nest. Who knew birds nesting in trees had crews who built apartment nests, or shared with other varieties of birds. I'm still not sure I believe my eyes.
Immediately, I got the camera and took a picture while the bright morning sun was highlighting the big nest, which looked as if it had simply been lifted in its entirety back into the tree. But I couldn't see what, if anything, was nestled in the rewoven straw.
One thing I do know is that all isn't peaceful in birddom. Sometimes an entire flock of birds decides to settle into our front yard trees, some visiting briefly, others staying around for several months. Right now, if ownership hasn't changed, the red-winged blackbirds own the biggest trees in the front yard. That's where most of the bird wars take place when flocks of other blackbirds fly in for a visit. But I've not seen a similar big nest there, nor have I read about it in any of my books on bird identification.
All nature has its times of war and peace. But put too many (the number varies) in one place and some kind of war seems inevitable.
Humankind may not be as different as we think. We best love some of our most violent sports, vociferously cheering our team on? Of course, most of us are bystanders rather than active participants in the game.
Our rowdiness seems to give us a sense of being part of the game without having to abide by the rules or do the physical or mental work required to emerge victorious. Striving to outdo or subdue each other seems built into our DNA.
Should we be surprised to discover there are “front” yard inhabitants that are not friendly with “back” yard neighbors? Sounds a bit human, doesn't it.
If we study our Bibles more diligently, we find much to ponder in the first families' stories, beginning with Cain's jealousy and subsequent murder of his brother Abel.
Much later, Noah's middle son, Ham, finds his father lying naked in the tent because he drank too much wine. He called his two brothers Shem and Japheth, who instead of laughing with him, promptly carried a coat into the tent to cover their father, turning their faces away in respect.
When Noah awakens and hears the story, he places a curse on Canaan, the son of Ham. I wonder who told him what happened while he was passed out.
Throughout these earliest Genesis accounts of family groups, we learn that whoever we are, what we choose to do makes a difference for good or for evil. But we seem to be slow to learn how to live together happily in peace.
About those birds: I'm not so sure I understood all that is happening there either. Family disputes can be unclear. I just know that somehow birds seemed to work together to get that huge nest built back into my backyard tree. I sure would like to get our tallest ladder and see it close up. If birds can work together to build, why not humans? I know that humans sometimes build bird-house “hotels” for a species that groups together in nesting, avian or sometimes human projects.
How could I forget about Habitat for Humanity program active in Lubbock? “Hurrah!” to those volunteers who join in providing labor and/or supplies to build homes for families who need help and are willing to participate in the program.
Also, there are programs that help house the families of veterans who die on the battlefield or are greatly disabled by injury in the battle.
Beth Pratt retired as religion editor from the Avalanche-Journal after 25 years. You can email her at beth.pratt@cheerful.com.
This article originally appeared on Lubbock Avalanche-Journal: Pratt: Nature's ability to heal is amazing
