Nature’s eyes are always open, but most of us are so intent on keeping up with the pace of our lives that it becomes more of a backdrop to our own little dramas. We notice a colorful bird or the first bloom on a bush and feel satisfied that we’ve shown up for something like a private viewing. How beautiful! And then off we go for the next appointment, task, destination, as if that’s all there is to it.
Today I was hiking with a friend at Annadel park and came to a large open meadow ringed by trails. A frog chorus welcomed us and drew us down to the reeds where they were singing and the shallows where thousands of inch wide gelatin balls each held about 20 of their eggs in miraculous, waiting suspension. I imagined a night time orgy of mating and egg laying by the light of this enchanting “wolf moon” we’ve been enjoying this week. Oh, how I would love to see it!
So we sat down to eat our lunch facing the “invisible” chorus. But suddenly there was silence as they adjusted to our presense, I guess. After a while our soft voices must have been accepted as safe under some instinctual frog safety code and they commensed again to singing, growing louder and louder til we had to raise our voices to hear each other! Then a plane flew over head, silencing their music once again, until, after another while, they started up again.
I found that I liked the idea that they had accepted us, as if inviting us into their soggy parlor for a visit. How many frog’s eyes were on us, keeping watch? And how many other invisible eyes of flying and crawling creatures had joined us for lunch?