Witnessing

I’m grateful today for witnessing so many facets of the miracle of life. The phoebe babies are big enough to peek over the edge of the nest, and I was stunned to see four yellow mouths instead of three. I watched off and on today as their parents flew more or less nonstop back and forth bringing bugs. The chicks would wake squeaking until one was fed, then their fragile little forms would droop back into sleep, their heads sometimes draped over the edge like the one in back. The central chick is stretching its delicate feathering wing.

Witnessing the many buds of the trail cactus blooming at last.
Stellar the Stardog says Which way? I’m so grateful for this face!
Stellar the Stardog contemplates cliff swallows swooping through the canyon in the early morning. Or something. Witnessing the inevitable impermanence of each life, of this precious life, with tender equanimity. I’m grateful that after his slump last week he’s got stamina again for a good morning walk, and can still stand up in the evening.

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