The days are visibly shorter. I watch my eight month old grandson as his hands articulate his newly claimed ability to change his environment.  His focus is intense.  He’s claiming his individuality, and the force of his presence.

I’m reading Joanna Macy’s book, Coming Back to Life.   She asks us to look at our hand, how the thumb and fingertips can touch each other.  When we see the size of the space they enclose, we see the right size for a branch to hold our swinging body.  

Because our eyes have moved around to the front, we have three-dimensional vision so we can leap from branch to branch.  I return to my ancestral past.

In that swinging from trees, I hear of quantum leaps.  We live in a time of incredible change as though we’re leaping through eons even as we return to remembering we come from a shared sea.  

Photo of Snowy Egrets by my friend Bob Dresser, now passed

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