Growing up can be hard for kids, and heart-...? breaking? I hope not! maybe heartopening for parents. I hope that's what it is.
My daughter had a class discussion in which the KKK was mentioned. She knew it stands for Ku Klux Klan, but she did not really know what it was. Our dinnertime conversation, then, was me giving a brief description of what their beliefs are and what they have done in the past; adding that they are still active in the South.
Her questions: Doesn't anyone stop them [from scaring and hurting people]? Don't the police do anything about them? Wait... you mean *here*? in the South of the U.S.?
Actually, yes, people do try to stop them but it obviously isn't working perfectly. Sadly, *some* law enforcement are also Klan members. Not all! but some. Yes, here in the U.S.
I could have gone on and on, and talked about race relations, about the differences and similarities between here and the South, about the history of various other "minorities..." But I didn't. Then she asked the question that all children who are not-white have asked:
"Am I safe?"
Tuesday, August 23, 2016
Friday, May 20, 2016
Lesson from a Cooper's Hawk
"People spend so much time looking for their life's Porpoise that they forget to enjoy the walk along the beach." - MW
I saw a hawk walking across the dry lot above the horse pasture. That's a little unusual, for a hawk. This hawk paused once in a while, seeming to take a breath, and then continued walking. I was curious, extremely so, and walked sort of near it while not making direct eye contact. When I was close enough the hawk walked a few more steps away and turned a bit, but not before I noticed a couple of feathers sticking straight up off of one wing. That wing was not as tucked into the hawk's body as the other. Above, occasionally, there was another hawk and I wondered if this one was young.
Over the next 30 minutes the hawk continued moving up hill. Once I saw it spread its wings. Another time, from a small mound of dirt, it spread its wings and floated to a spot 20 yards away. It wasn't really soaring, given that it was only about 5 feet off of the ground. And from there proceeded with its march up to the top of the canal bank.
The canal bank is a good spot for a Cooper's Hawk to hide, the weeds and dirt and dead plants from last year are the same color as its feathers. I went over to the canal bank to see what happened next. A friendly horse stopped me, and when I looked back the hawk was gone.
I can make no guarantees. What I know is that when I got to the top of the canal bank it was not there, it was probably not in the water - and it would not have gotten out, there was a much stronger and steadier breeze on top of the bank, and there were now two hawks overhead.
Perhaps this hawk gave us a metaphor for our purpose. We sometimes don't belong where we are, and there isn't a whole lot we can do about it except had toward the place where we can be our purpose. This hawk continuously moved uphill, to catch what lift it could, until it could soar. Soaring is what hawks do. Perhaps we have to keep moving up, keep stretching those things we are supposed to be, until we can take flight again.
I saw a hawk walking across the dry lot above the horse pasture. That's a little unusual, for a hawk. This hawk paused once in a while, seeming to take a breath, and then continued walking. I was curious, extremely so, and walked sort of near it while not making direct eye contact. When I was close enough the hawk walked a few more steps away and turned a bit, but not before I noticed a couple of feathers sticking straight up off of one wing. That wing was not as tucked into the hawk's body as the other. Above, occasionally, there was another hawk and I wondered if this one was young.
Over the next 30 minutes the hawk continued moving up hill. Once I saw it spread its wings. Another time, from a small mound of dirt, it spread its wings and floated to a spot 20 yards away. It wasn't really soaring, given that it was only about 5 feet off of the ground. And from there proceeded with its march up to the top of the canal bank.
The canal bank is a good spot for a Cooper's Hawk to hide, the weeds and dirt and dead plants from last year are the same color as its feathers. I went over to the canal bank to see what happened next. A friendly horse stopped me, and when I looked back the hawk was gone.
I can make no guarantees. What I know is that when I got to the top of the canal bank it was not there, it was probably not in the water - and it would not have gotten out, there was a much stronger and steadier breeze on top of the bank, and there were now two hawks overhead.
Perhaps this hawk gave us a metaphor for our purpose. We sometimes don't belong where we are, and there isn't a whole lot we can do about it except had toward the place where we can be our purpose. This hawk continuously moved uphill, to catch what lift it could, until it could soar. Soaring is what hawks do. Perhaps we have to keep moving up, keep stretching those things we are supposed to be, until we can take flight again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)