The ocean is bountiful and generous in her treasures, feeding us, giving us ways to transport our goods and travel the world. The wind provides free energy for sails, the sun is just asking to harvest her rays. Even the times I see the kudzu overtaking a rusty truck, here is nature simply reclaiming with infinitesimal confidence the natural order of entropy and return to the source.
The cows chew their cud, not knowing who they will feed, with steak and ribs, unperturbed by their fate, accepting the random kindness of a stranger rubbing their face, giving free grass over the barbwire fence when I stopped by the side of the road to take a picture of the red barn in the grey fog.
The crows have plenty say, doling out caws and criticism, chattering in the redwood tree outside the bay window. Maybe so do I. As I stretch my back and shoulders, breathing in the clarifying breeze, I ruffle my own feathers, present in the moment, aware of the luxury of time. And not only do I have plenty of time - but every moment counts.
