Circles of Life

If you can enlarge the photograph, and you have nothing better to do, you can count the tree rings and calculate the age of this huge driftwood now resting on the Manzanita beach. No, I didn’t do it. But even at a casual glance, you can tell that this once elegant tree witnessed a lot of history in its time. That’s part of the wonder of nature for me. That beautiful old tree you pass every day without really noticing, or the rugged mountain cliffs that become commonplace, or the churning ocean that sings day after day — these are repositories of remarkable history. Think what the Rockies have witnessed over the centuries or those great Redwoods. When I stop to wonder about this, I come away with at least two conclusions: my few years on this earth aren’t as big as a grain of sand, so I dare not take myself too seriously. I’m passing through. And, all living things, even those we think insignificant, are the keepers of history. Maybe a third thing, too: I am grateful for a few years of walking through history in the company of forests and oceans and creatures of all sizes and shapes. And that includes my crusty neighbor, people in places to which I will never go–people I will never know, and this splendid earth-ball that floats through a living universe. I may not be blessed with wealth or prominence or position, but I am rich. And so are you. Let your gratitude be as strong as the Redwood, as powerful as the oceans, and as humble as the wide-eyes of a little child. You are blessed. Return it today in some tangible way. Press on.