Where Did You Come From?

For a class I have been sitting in one spot for twenty minutes each week-- my only task, to observe the world around me and journal if I feel so led. Today was fruitful and inspiring, because of the wildlife I spotted. Not long after I arrived, I saw the flash of a small brightly colored bird dart past me. I thought perhaps it might be one of those parakeets often seen hanging around Austin during the summers. 

In the meantime, I watched two young squirrels playing/foraging on a branch near a now abandoned squirrel nest. Were they returning to what was once their nursery only weeks ago? 

Moments later the brightly colored bird returned, swooping in to pose for me—it was a Yellow Warbler. It’s entire body was a luminesant, yellow-golden color. I guess you never know who will stop by!

This reminds me of an entry by Derrick Jensen that I reread recently. He was comparing our society's treatment of the natural world to that of an abusive spouse—supposedly one trait they often exhibit is a quickly starting romance and a nearly immediate demand for commitment. Jensen paralleled this with how little we often know about a place before we go in and start destroying it in search of mineable resources (think mountain top removal and forest clear-cuts). 

This came to mind because I have watched from this place since February and only today sighted this small bird. Did he just stop by on his way elsewhere? Has he been around and thus far gone unnoticed? Certainly, had I only visited this site once before, perhaps to survey it for resources, I wouldn’t have known it to be part of this creature’s habitat. 

What else might we not know and how should that shape our handling of this fragile, yet endlessly surprising gift we call home?