A few years back, I used to often drive past an old wooden power-line pole - at the top, an Osprey had built a fantastically large nest. It really was a sight to behold. I'd drive past, and sometimes I'd get a glimpse of the magnificent bird that lived inside. It was obviously built to house the eggs that the female would lay, and watching the Ospreys guard and nurture what was inside was quite a thing to behold. At the end of the day, with the sun setting behind it, I'd ponder the nature of their life together - and just how magnificent it was in that moment. Hunting, fishing, protecting the young. All in a large, intricately gathered nest, built by their own work and ingenuity. I loved driving by that nest. The summer ended, and fall came - the nest was still perched up there. Winter came, and I didn't drive by that spot. And when spring came, and we ventured out again - the nest, in all it's splendid glory, was gone. Winter had knocked it down, and the Osprey and offspring had long since moved on.
At the time, I mused on how sad it was - but lately I've been amending my thoughts on it. Sometimes something is amazing - beautiful to behold and wonderful to live in for a while. But it has its season, and things are abandoned and destroyed but life moves on. And that's just the way it is sometimes. We as humans have a tendency to grab on to things, and do our best to try and make them last forever - or at least as long as we can. Some things last longer than others - but, as I'm often reminded by the eminently quotable Robert Frost, "nothing gold can stay." My own life has had its moments of shining brilliance - and some have ended. But I remain, and I can go forth and try to find new moments in the future - and it's okay if they never match the splendor I once had. For at least I had them once, and it was precious and it was good.
No comments:
Post a Comment