Sitting in the marsh, if I were asked to write on this when I arrived here, I should describe only a few meager glimpses of life. A blue heron nest stands still and empty at the top of a dead tree, a few ripples of bugs on the surface of the water. But as I stared at the still water, I saw the first few glimpses of life. Newts swam underwater, a great match to go with the efts we were finding throughout the previous days. I caught a leech that was swimming (something I've never seen).
Apparently I have forgotten all of my freshwater biology, or I have never really been to a swamp, because everything we pulled out, every muck-filled bucket was full of life. Every bit of pond scum every bit of plant hid a living thing. There was life everywhere. And if only we could get people to go outside to see below the "mucky" water, see into the mud, see into the forest and open their eyes, their senses to that sense of adventure, we would feel so much more connected to the world.
I don't think I'll ever drive past a swam again and look at it in the same way...
No comments:
Post a Comment