Beatles

Okay, in truth this photo has absolutely nothing to do with the Beatles, or even with beetles for that matter (I think the little guy is a fly of some description). Still, this is my pic for the week. I had been out walking and was truly surprised to see this critter making its way across the trail. In November we had weeks of 20 and 30 below zero weather. December has been between 40 & 50 degrees warmer than that (we've even had a thaw!). How this little fellow managed to survive is beyond me. At risk of looking like a crazy lady, I stood by this bug until the skier, seen in the tunnel, passed us. I didn't have the heart to stand by & let this trooper of a fly get squished. Though I sensed that it was near the end of its life, it deserved a dignified death. When I finally left and continued on my walk... I noticed another little fly laying in the snow. It's time had already passed.
     The whole thing reminded me of an evening walk in the first snow one winter in Cortland. As the snowflakes fell I strolled down a tree lined walkway. Spruce stood on both sides of this walk. I started down the path and was stilled by the silence a snowfall creates. I happened to notice something dark fall down from an overhanging spruce branch & sure enough a little black spider lay there in the snow. I figured the falling snow knocked this one to the ground and I picked it up and gently placed it on the trunk of the tree. I saved the little spider.
     I returned to the center of the pathway and continued my walk. Again, something dark fell right in front of me. Another spider had been knocked from the branches! I, dutifully, returned the spider to a tree trunk and then continued my walk.
     As I did I saw many dark little movements. Spiders, dozens of them, were being knocked down by the ever so gently falling snow. I stood there in awe.
    A feeling came over me of a stillness deeper even than that of a quieting snowfall. I saw that this is the cycle of things; this is the natural order. Beautiful things die. Everything that is born, dies. And I saw the futility of my desire to change outcomes. Humbled, I did not try to save another spider but simply kept walking along quietly as their witness. It was one of the most peaceful moments I have ever had.
     This picture may not provoke that depth of stillness, but that little fly crossing a snowy path reminded me of that end of the season of spiders. I do believe, though I only saw two flies, I did witness the end of the season of long-winged flies and the entrance to the season of stillness.