One of the perennial questions that bounces around in my spirit is, “Why am I so fascinated by nature?”   I do not really choose to be interested in nature.  I like people and enjoy studying and exploring how and why we humans believe and act the way we do.  But when I am in a natural setting my curiosity awakens.  My world fills with awe and wonder.  This not really an act of the will.  It rises from something beyond my control.  It invites another part of myself to speak up and embrace the moment.  Why does nature evoke this response?

The picture above is a good example of what happens when I am “in nature” and seems to suggest something about why I enjoy being there.

This is a pair of Whooping Cranes.  They are one of roughly 100 breeding pairs left in the wild.  But their rarity does not explain why I took this picture.  I have been photographing these birds regularly over the last 20 years.  This particular pair is part of a flock that flies thousands of miles each year between their breeding grounds in Canada and their wintering grounds on the Gulf Coast of Texas.  But their annual migration is shorter than many other species who are far less robust and seemingly less able to withstand such a long trip.  These birds are very large, standing roughly 5 feet tall.  They have one or two chicks per year and have developed unique ways of adapting to their natural setting. They are very special creatures.  But none of this was part of my experience when I took this particular shot.

This pair attracted my attention when I heard a loud screeching call.  Those of us on the guide boat saw these two birds along with their 4-foot-tall chick standing next to a stream where they had been feeding on crabs and wolfberries.  They had stopped feeding and the two parents came together and started calling out.  The chick was close by but had hunkered down a bit in the brush.  It appeared that they were sounding the alarm, but I could not see any apparent threat.  Then I heard someone call out, “Look, a coyote!”   When I looked at the canal near the boat, I saw a large coyote carefully scavenging along the bank looking for dead fish or crabs.  He was not stalking the whoopers but they knew where he was and the threat that he presented. 

For the next 15 minutes I stood transfixed by this drama as the coyote made his way along the water’s edge.  He paused briefly when the cranes came into view but then went on his way looking for whatever popped up along the canal.  He obviously knew where they were but also understood that they were beyond his reach and so he moved on.  All the while, the birds continued sounding the alarm and standing together to deal with whatever the next few moments brought their way.  When the coyote was a safe distance away and obviously uninterested in them, the parents relaxed and began feeding once again.  The chick joined them as they walked along the small stream looking for a yummy morsel.  The parent, from time to time, would stand up straight and look in the direction of the retreating coyote.  They would then resume their lives with a confidence that comes from living with a wise awareness of their world.

During this natural drama I must have taken hundreds of pictures.  I was lost in the moment.  My attention would shift back and forth between the parents, the chick, and the coyote.   I marveled at the players as this story began to unfold.  Something deep within my soul was awakened by this interaction between predator and would-be-prey, protective parent and defenseless chick.  The ebb and flow of life itself seemed to wash upon the shoals of time.  In these precious moments, I was in touch with something as old as time itself, as deep as the primordial seas of history, and as real as the breath that came in moments between each act of the drama playing out before me.  That something is why I am attracted to and fascinated by nature.

Nature is real!  We do not need spin doctors to tell us what is really going on.  It speaks to our deeper selves.  It is, in very real terms, our story.  It reminds us that we are, in essence, of the natural world.  Despite all of our pretensions and arrogant assumptions of being better than the rest of creation, nature has a was of reintroducing us to a higher and deeper self.  In nature we find the beauty and wisdom that exists deep within our human heritage and experience. 

We can muster the courage to protect the least of these, our children and those who are weak and vulnerable.  We can draw upon age old methods for dealing with threats from those that we, in our pretentious modern thinking, call our enemies.  These methods do not always require violence, sometimes all we have to do is sound the alarm and stand firm, stand together, and face the threat with a wisdom that grows out our best selves.  Nature reminds us that we do not have to chase down every opportunity that comes our way.  We can learn and assess each opportunity and then ignore the fool’s errand, reserving our energy for opportunities that are more likely to yield the results that we need.

Nature allows us to recognize that we are the cranes and the coyote.  We are life.  And life is always good.  It may not always be comfortable or work to our benefit.  We may, in fact, become prey or predator.  But we are deeply rooted in the wisdom of life that has found a way to exist for millions of years on a rock that is spinning through a universe surrounded by untold numbers of other rocks.  Nature allows life to speak up and send forth the warning that we are under threat.  All shall be well as long as we have the wisdom to listen and heed the warnings that nature provides.

Bob