Miracle? All of it. 

fingers-fingertips-touch

“I can’t feel anything in my fingertips,” Manning said. “I’ve talked to a doctor recently who said, Don’t count on the feeling coming back.

The ESPN pundits were chattering about the NFL preseason in the background.  Upon hearing Fingertips – Feeling – Not coming back, my attention moves from the morning paper, to the broadcast. I listen.

“It was hard for me for about two years, because one doctor told me I could wake up any morning and it might come back. So you wake up every day thinking, Today’s the day! Then it’s not.”

I gently release my grip from the newspaper, and with feather touch brushes I slide my fingertips over the paper. Back and forth and then again.  And again. And again.

Skin on paper.

A boy, hand in his pocket, fingers his favorite polished stone.

The paper is dry, smooth.

I release.

A trace of ink stains both fingertips.

Today’s the Day!


Inspired by Albert Einstein’s quote: “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”


Notes:

Big Blue


“When Patrick Dykstra saw a life-sized replica of a blue whale in the Smithsonian at age 16, he dreamed of having an underwater encounter with the biggest animal on Earth, according to the Daily Mail. The filmmaker, born in Denver and currently based in Dubai, fulfilled his dream in the tropical waters off Sri Lanka where he captured stunning underwater and aerial videos and images of blue whales while swimming with the giant sea creatures, which can reach 98-feet long and weigh 200 tons.

The whales are the largest animal to ever inhabit the earth, and outsize even the biggest dinosaurs. Stunning drone footage captures the enormous mammals from above, while in other shots a kayaker paddles just metres from one of the awe-inspiring creatures.

“Nothing on Earth compares to the experience of being side by side with the largest animal to ever inhabit the planet and to dive into its environment,” Dykstra, 35, told the Daily Mail. “I use my photography and videography to help study these animals in hopes of understanding and protecting them.”


Source: grindtv.com

Let Go Ios!


Road Trip! When does the bus leave?


Music: Just Breathe by TélépopmusikJust breathe. another day. Another day, just believe.

They do. They do.

bird-singing-morning

The early morning hour
should be dedicated to praise:
do not the birds set us the example?

~ Charles Spurgeon


Notes:

Sunday Morning: We have an imperative. A duty.

little-swift-bird

Helen Macdonald teaches at the University of Cambridge and her most recent bestselling book, ‘‘H Is for Hawk,’’ has won numerous awards. In this week’s NY Magazine, she writes about Judith Wakelam who rescues baby common swifts, “birds so exquisitely aerial that they eat, sleep and mate on the wing and spend the first two or three years of their lives migrating between Europe and Africa in continuous flight.”  Macdonald calls on wildlife rehab experts to explain why people rescue wildlife:  “…there’s something inside humans when they’re faced with a helpless creature. We have an imperative. A duty…I believe most people, especially children, simply cannot see an animal suffer…The Lindsay rehab center receives everything from bobcats to snakes, ducklings to songbirds, brought in by concerned members of the public who have driven many miles to deliver them…rescuing animals draws out ‘‘raw emotions that unleash our deepest insecurities about our humanity, mortality and place in the natural world.’’ Macdonald then closes with an evocative description of Wakelam releasing rehabbed baby common swifts back into the wild:

It stares into the wind. Then it starts shivering. Nothing has visibly changed, but something is happening. On Wakelam’s open palm a creature whose home has been paper towels and plastic boxes is turning into a different creature whose home is thousands of miles of air. It is as extraordinary a thing to witness as a dragonfly larva’s crawling out of the water and tearing itself out into a thing with wings. Then the swift decides. It hunches itself forward on its wings and drops from her flattened palm. ‘‘Up! Up! Up!’’ calls Wakelam. I’m terrified it will hit the ground. But it does not. For five or six seconds it flies with halting, unaccustomed wing beats a foot above the grass, then hitches and pulls into gear and starts to ascend, flickering upward until it becomes a remote pair of winnowing wings among all the other swifts up there. For weeks it has sat in a plastic box preening and snuggling with its foster siblings. Now it is gone, and Wakelam’s hand is its final memory of earth, the last thing it will touch for two years.

Don’t miss Helen Mcdonald’s full essay here: Rescuing Wildlife is Futile and Necessary


Image Source: Margaret Westrop – “Little Swift

I would rather be a superb Perseid meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow

Perseid


Notes:

  • Image Source: The Sensual Starfish.
  • Everything you need to know: Perseid meteor shower.
  • Post title adapted from Jack London quote:I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.”

Hello… they seem to cry, who… are… you?

Also invariable present at some indefinable distance are the mourning doves whose plaintive call suggests irresistibly a kind of seeking-out, the attempt by separated souls to restore a lost communion:

Hello… they seem to cry, who… are… you?

And the reply from a different quarter. Hello… (pause) where… are… you?

No doubt this line of analogy must be rejected. It’s foolish and unfair to impute to the doves, with serious concerns of their own, an interest in questions more appropriate to their human kin. Yet their song, if not a mating call or a warning, must be what it sounds like, a brooding meditation on space, on solitude. The game.

~ Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire


Notes: Related posts from Edward Abbey: Desert Solitaire

Big Blue

susan kanigan


Lake Superior at Marquette, Michigan.
Susan Kanigan with her iPhone 6 @ 4:36 PM on July 18, 2015.


Related “Blue” Posts

Suddenly it lay before us, restless, mighty and unending.

ocean-sea-wave

The sea came towards us like an immense silver sail.
Long before we reached it we could detect its salt breath;
the horizon became ever brighter and more distant,
and suddenly it lay before us, restless, mighty and unending.

~ Erich Maria Remarque, from Three Comrades


Notes: Prose – the distance between two doors. Photo: Shae Fierce

Sunday Morning

delicate-arch
Many have made the climb to Delicate Arch, so many that the erosion of human feet is visible on the soft sandstone, a dim meandering, path leading upward for a mile and a half into a queer region of knobs, domes, turrets and coves, all sculptured from a single solid mass of rock.  What do the pilgrims see? The trail climbs and winds past isolate pinyons and solitary junipers to a vale of stone where nothing has happened for a thousand years, to judge from the quietude of the place, the sense of waiting that seems to hover in the air. […]

If Delicate Arch has any significance it lies, I will venture, in the power of the odd and unexpected to startle the senses and surprise the mind out of their ruts of habit, to compel us into a reawakened awareness of the wonderful – that which is full of wonder.

A weird, lovely, fantastic object out of nature like Delicate Arch has the curious ability to remind us – like rock and sunlight and wind and wilderness – that out there is a different world, older and greater and deeper by far than ours, a world which surrounds and sustains the little world of men as sea and sky surround and sustain a ship. The shock of the real. For a little while we are again able to see, as the child sees, a world of marvels. For a few moments we discover that nothing can be  taken for granted, for if this ring of stone is marvelous then all which shaped it is marvelous, and our journey here on earth, able to see and touch and hear in the midst of tangible and mysterious things-in-themselves, is the most strange and daring of all adventures.

~ Edward Abbey, Desert Solitaire


Notes: