Perspective

Wren enjoys an eagle-eye perspective of the canyon.

Little Wren has been so patient, for so many months. She hasn’t enjoyed a proper long walk for at least three months, and barely any for many moons before that. I’m grateful to Ellie for accompanying me to the canyon rim yesterday for the first time since before surgery. Winter weather is coming again next week, and who knows what will happen after that; I certainly don’t. So I wanted to be sure and visit our little canyon before deep snows might limit our walks. Our jaunt yesterday went so well that Wren and I went back alone this afternoon. I felt so strong that we did the medium loop, but on our way back south along the rim I kind of wished I hadn’t been so ambitious. No matter. I rested. She ran around. We made it home safely just after sunset.

Our sun just one of multitudes…

I’ve been playing around with my new phone after dark, keeping things in perspective, ever since Dawn shared a photo she got with her iPhone of the Aurora Borealis some weeks ago. I missed that event, but the stars the past few nights have been incredible. Orion has always been my favorite constellation, maybe because I learned it first at a very young age, so I have been trying to capture him and his faithful dogstar Sirius. the past couple of nights Sirius wasn’t up yet when I played, but Orion was (above: near center, below: lower half), and the Pleiades (below: top center).

Looking at the stars and remembering my place, our place, in the cosmos, has long been a comfort to me. Knowing that some of the ‘stars’ are actually multiples of stars, or nebulae, or galaxies filled with multitudes more stars, helps me keep things in perspective. On the one hand, my little life is utterly insignificant, and even this whole planet is no big deal in the universe. On the other hand, as far as we know, for certain, Life is only on Earth. We don’t know that there aren’t other planets alive with biodiversity; we simply don’t know that there are. We could be on track as a single species to eradicate ourselves and decimate the miracle of life on earth, and in so doing, destroy most of the life in the entire universe. Who knows? So, looking up into the vast space of night helps me remember to savor all life, as well as my own life, but also not to take myself too seriously.

I’m grateful there are people in my orbit with far better cameras than mine who know far more about the universe, and sometimes share their pictures with us, including R. Hubbell, who has taken to offering a Daily Dose of Perspective in his newsletter on Substack. His image above is a gazillion times zoomed in on the middle ‘star’ in Orion’s sword; the one in my photos that looks a little bigger and more blurred than the rest of Orion’s stars. Now that’s perspective! And perspective can help those of us fortunate enough to have the luxury of it, to navigate the next couple of years in this country. Death is certain, time of death uncertain. Breathe. Love who and what you love. Help wherever you can, however you can. Savor each precious day you wake up alive. Practice gratitude.

Another great perspective provider is living with a cat. Dear Topaz, sitting sweetly on my lap one minute, slicing my hand with her claw the next. In ancient Egypt cats were worshipped as gods — and cats have never forgotten this.

2 thoughts on “Perspective

  1. How wonderful that you were able to walk so far with Wren in relative comfort, a tremendous milestone, brava! And I loved your musings about our place in the universe and seeing Hubbell’s breathtaking photograph. But I laughed out loud at the last sentence of the post 🤣. I’m grateful you’re back.

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