Spring is my favorite season.
I like it for all the usual reasons; fresh spirits rising after the gloom and damp of winter, the calendar space when new life and color bursts forth in forests and fields, and little creatures hatching scurrying and hopping to life. It's a grand time and an occasion to thank God for allowing new life.
Last Spring after motoring for miles and enjoying the sights and scents of a warm day I made the last turn for home. I noticed ahead of me in the middle of the road a family of bob whites. Proud parents leading the way followed by a half dozen tiny chicks fleeting across the roadway. Naturally, I slowed and then proceeded after assuming all had safely crossed. For some reason I glanced into my rear view mirror and was horrified.
In the track of my right rear tire was a tiny lump. It was so small I never felt a thud. I had crushed a tiny baby bird. Feeling awful I glanced back again and saw the mother quail in the street standing over her dead chick. There was no traffic so I stopped and hollered to scare the adult bird back to her family. She fluttered off the highway into the safety of the adjoining field and marched her family remining away.
The images was haunting. Difficult to imagine that a newly hatched miracle of life was selected to die so suddenly. And, why did the tiny bird remain on the road once his momma, papa and brothers and sisters clear the road / Such a sad vision of the mother bird having some recognition of death standing over her killed hatchling. And, no way to undue the tragedy.
Nature is a cycle of living, dying, and survival of the fittest, but the incident was a cruel reminder of life's fragility and quickness. There will be billions of new lives this season and many will promptly perish, without warning or fanfare, after their brief twilight of life. In the grand scheme of things the little bird I killed may be remembered only because I've noted it. But is there more ?
The little bob whites quick death reminds me that life is a limited and precious gift. Therefore, we must party, honor, and embrace life at all times with great enthusiasm. Celebrating our existence and the lives of the people and other creations in our midst should be our joyous song for all our seasons.
Remember we are living our "Final Lap" and have no schedule when our light ends. Always honor life in all it's fascinating forms.
For God's sake reject convenience abortions.
I like it for all the usual reasons; fresh spirits rising after the gloom and damp of winter, the calendar space when new life and color bursts forth in forests and fields, and little creatures hatching scurrying and hopping to life. It's a grand time and an occasion to thank God for allowing new life.
Last Spring after motoring for miles and enjoying the sights and scents of a warm day I made the last turn for home. I noticed ahead of me in the middle of the road a family of bob whites. Proud parents leading the way followed by a half dozen tiny chicks fleeting across the roadway. Naturally, I slowed and then proceeded after assuming all had safely crossed. For some reason I glanced into my rear view mirror and was horrified.
In the track of my right rear tire was a tiny lump. It was so small I never felt a thud. I had crushed a tiny baby bird. Feeling awful I glanced back again and saw the mother quail in the street standing over her dead chick. There was no traffic so I stopped and hollered to scare the adult bird back to her family. She fluttered off the highway into the safety of the adjoining field and marched her family remining away.
The images was haunting. Difficult to imagine that a newly hatched miracle of life was selected to die so suddenly. And, why did the tiny bird remain on the road once his momma, papa and brothers and sisters clear the road / Such a sad vision of the mother bird having some recognition of death standing over her killed hatchling. And, no way to undue the tragedy.
Nature is a cycle of living, dying, and survival of the fittest, but the incident was a cruel reminder of life's fragility and quickness. There will be billions of new lives this season and many will promptly perish, without warning or fanfare, after their brief twilight of life. In the grand scheme of things the little bird I killed may be remembered only because I've noted it. But is there more ?
The little bob whites quick death reminds me that life is a limited and precious gift. Therefore, we must party, honor, and embrace life at all times with great enthusiasm. Celebrating our existence and the lives of the people and other creations in our midst should be our joyous song for all our seasons.
Remember we are living our "Final Lap" and have no schedule when our light ends. Always honor life in all it's fascinating forms.
For God's sake reject convenience abortions.
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