August 31, 2007
When I did the morning walk today I had to think about the first time I saw the spider webs outlined with dew at sunrise. At that time, I felt as though I had stepped into an enchanted place, and perhaps I would never see such a sight again. This season, there have been many mornings when the scene is repeated, and I still greatly enjoy it; I am starting to note which spiders make the largest webs, or weave most symmetrically, or place their webs most creatively and so forth. The one that seems to speak a moral lesson is the very tightly woven web that lays out over the grasses like a handkerchief with an entrance funneling downward into a mysterious center. The creator of the web must place some irresistible lure in there and wait for hapless takers. Obviously, the method has success, because there are hundreds such webs tucked in between the myriad species of grasses residing in the meadow.
Many things in my new life that were beyond my imagination have become routine, and I now can call myself “an old hand” at the lifestyle of the cancer patient. Last week, I came into the oncologist’s waiting area and watched a woman come from the treatment rooms and begin to cry. The receptionist moved out from behind the desk very quickly and hugged her while handing her a tissue. Words of comfort were offered, and my first time came back to me clearly – entering the room and seeing all those very sick people and thinking with shock that I was one of them. Now it is as much a part of my life as breakfast. Today’s routine, for example, included the injection of Neupogen – daily injections of anything at all were unthinkable in my former life, now, they go on and on because the bone marrow is unwilling to manufacture white blood cells without the insistence of the chemical. The battle is waged there in the core of my physical self and the bones hurt. . . but so far the pattern is one of eventual victory, the shots conclude and a time of good days arrives.
Something not previously experienced at Sanctuary is a swarm of bees that have gathered on a branch near our neighbor’s house. It is a large group that seems to be in search of a new home, and we are beginning to realize how little we know about the nature of bees and what they need at this time of the year. I will report the outcomes when they are made clear.
Since we live in the grasslands, our meadow is a beautiful place filled with many kinds of grasses in many shades of color. All those childhood instructions to color the grass green simply do not apply to what we see here. This sight changes day by day as the season moves onward; now many species are heavy with seed as they reach the conclusion of their life cycle. The privilege of walking amidst God’s plans and patterns is a grand one – it helps to have the daily reminder that life moves onward toward endings and new beginnings. While not all of it is beautiful, or tidy, or gentle, or kind, it remains a joy to participate in and I do so, with ongoing delight and thanksgiving.