the seedheads stay present all winter. thimbleweed is ready. eventually the wind will carry it, dispensing it, seeding new growth, spreading it far and wide. the wooly tufts are evidence of nature taking care of nature.

the concentric circles are all around us. in reminders we get every single day, we are prompted to remember that even the tiniest of our actions will impact the next and then the next and then the next and then…

it is what makes me feel so utterly disheartened with what is happening here and now. it is not just the cruel actions of others that ripple out. it is also the mindbogglingly complicit inaction.

once again – and over and over – i see the absolute transience of this moment. once again – and over and over – i see the silky filament that exists between am and am not. once again – and over and over – i try to take in – to make part of my being – the presence of mind to be present, the ability to be stopped in my tracks, a nod to wondrous, utter gratitude for breathing.

to be amazed by the tufts of thimbleweed, to carry a sunrise or sunset, to drink the sun into our bodies, to hold one another.

and once again – and over and over – i wonder how it is that there are so many who would choose cruelty over kindness, who would choose corruption over goodness, who would choose marginalizing others over lifting others up.

how are we taking care of each other? what are we spreading in rippling concentric circles from our very center? how are we carrying, dispensing, seeding, spreading life – living – far and wide?

look to thimbleweed. its resilience, its anticipation. the seedheads seem to be ever-looking forward, planning for its survival, anticipating its continued beingness.

maybe – just maybe – nothing less than what humans should be doing.

*****

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