10|7|22 Nature Misses You
As the mornings are darker now, I’ve been sitting quietly on the rocks waiting for the sunrise and watching the river. Today I was noticing just how much movement happens at the surface. Of course the river is in constant flow, but the activity along that plane where the water meets the air is in a state of perpetual motion. Fish rippling the surfacing to snag bugs, dragonflies careening in all directions, water bugs scooting along, tiny vortexes form and dissipate in the flow, birds swooping in, turtles popping their noses up—all these things come together in a visual cacophony. But only if you stop to really look.
Best,Sitting there this morning I thought again about this sweet little shop I visited when I first got to Maine in June. Among their many interesting wares, I found this great line of incense from Sea Witch Botanicals. What immediately caught my attention was their tagline: Nature Misses You.
I've thought about that idea in some way almost every day since. I keep mulling it over. Nature misses us? I've spent the last few decades thinking nature is actually on it's last nerve with us. We have leveled forests, blasted out mountains, dumped waste into rivers and emitted just about everything possible into the air. I’m pretty sure she’s had enough of us. But this idea keeps nagging at me. Nature misses us.
Sitting by the river this morning watching all our fellow beings going about their days, I wondered if this might be what nature misses. This moment of communion. Certainly I didn’t need to be there for all that activity to happen. For the birds and dragonflies and fish to do their thing. But the mere act of witnessing this beauty, of really seeing this mundane yet magical symphony of life is foundational—not only for us, but also for all the beings we share the planet with. And when we're not there we are missed.
I’m not sure what it all means, but these three words really haunt me. Nature Misses You. It seems like both an invitation and an invocation, but I’m not at all sure to what or to what end. Maybe you have some insights.
Both the blessing and the curse of working with your hands 8+ hours a day is that your brain has all sorts of time to pick at things like this. So, as the gray matter was gnawing on this and simultaneously trying to figure out how to make a line of jewelry as an ode to Hilma af Klint, my hands were able to make a bunch of things completely unrelated to either topic.
There’s just the regular collection of random pieces in the shop this week. Mostly inspired by trying to clean out and use up the remaining tiny bits of some favorite tins.
I hope you have some time this weekend to get back in touch with Nature. She misses you.
I hope you have some time this weekend to get back in touch with Nature. She misses you.
PS: Dragonflies are one of my favorite things at the river. Though I appreciate them for their beauty, they are also biomechanical wonders.