Rain Creek

Sitting by Rain Creek this morning, I was struck by many things. It was so quiet, except for the sounds of the myriad of birds and the occasional splash in the water of an aquatic creature. I thought, this is how it sounded before there were any motors, the sound of the day was this...... it seemed strange to think of a world where the only sounds were natural, no man made motors or TV or cell phone or anything, except the sounds of the natural environment.

Then I noticed that as far as the eye could see, there were no power cables or poles, only the marshland and the trees and the grasses and clouds and the sky - even though this is the natural environment, it seemed so strange to not hear or see those things that have become such a part of our everyday life.

I watched a pair of small martins feed their young and take turns flying over the marsh, collecting bugs to give to their unseen babies, nestled safely in the martin box Gib has put there for them; beautiful small birds, their song so soft and subtle but complex in the range of notes, almost clicks, that they sing to each other and their young. I watched the red winged blackbirds perched on the rushes, offering their loud and distinctive cry, scattering the seed of the velvety brown plants as they take off and light, heading back and forth to the unseen feeders that I know are by the house and that I have been watching them frequent.

I watched for the ripples of the unseen aquatic creatures as they spashed at the surface of the marsh, most times the result of the water disturbance being absorbed quickly by the water lillies and therefore, going unseen by me.

I watched a hawk soar overhead but fly beyond my site line, no doubt to a field where the prey could be more easily seen and captured.

I saw butterfies fly their lilting flight among the tall grasses and and down into the fern covered bottomland and flies, misquitoes, beetles and water bugs making their way in their protected habitat.

I thought about how beautiful this all looks but with the knowledge that Rain Creek is polluted, as are probably each and every body of water on our planet.

I sat there for quite some time before the first plane went over and I was brought back to the world of the internal combustion engine, the industrial world that is the downfall of all things natural, and possibly, no probably, the downfall of everything.

But for now, I shall enjoy the beauty that is Rain Creek, and continue to try to come to terms with something that seems so totally beyond my control or the control of anyone who would take action against that which is killing us. Because beyond changing the thinking of the industrialized civilization's power brokers, there IS nothing we can do.

I hope my grandchildren are getting to see what is left of our natural world; I hope their parents see the urgency in allowing them to reallize the sacred beauty and connection of everything living, for the future will certainly be one that is devoid of anything we would define as natural, and I want them to know how it was and how it could have been if we had only listened to that which we destroyed.