Last week In the blossoming of summer we faced a lesson of death to remind us of the mutability of life.
On one fine morning, my daughter went to play around a local maturing fig tree, known by children locally as the ‘climbing tree’, to find a small bird (a rock bunting) at its roots partially eaten. She has an affection for the Animal Kingdom, especially for horses and small creatures, who no doubt remind her of herself.
Taking the cue conversations were had concerning the circle of life, and the food chain. We collected the bird wrapped in fig leaves and buried it near a vegetable patch.
During that night another death, this time the oldest member of our family. A great-uncle, a great man.
The morning after, a little after I heard the news, I found a toy frog in my pocket, and then another discarded on the street as I walked along. I played the game of connections,
The frog, dweller of land and water. Herald of Healing and Transformation.