|A swift soars over the rushing river|
June 12, 2013
I was reading in the backyard yesterday and observed a wren flitting to and from its birdhouse under a tree, Each time, the sun was just so that as it made each turn for home, I could see the lacy-winged insect in its beak. The babies seemed to know what would come next and they shouted their approval. I even hear them now early on this Sunday morning: it is Father's Day. There are tweets and songs and then there is the urgent chorus of hungry baby birds which stops as soon as it starts. Their chorus serves a purpose: "Me first! Don't forget me! I AM the center of the universe and you are my father/mother. Your life only has meaning in how well you serve me until I have no more need of this service." And then you can do it all over again!
Happy Father's Day Dad, wherever you are. Thank you!