Proof

Yesterday morning, I returned to church for a second time, not to take pictures, but to walk.  I was feeling anxious and wound-up and wanted the peace that comes with simply walking.  I made my way back into the woods to the bridge and it was there I saw an unfamiliar bird dart to a nearby tree, flap its wings and then dart away again.  In that brief second though, I saw an orange body with white stripes on the wings.

And I had no camera.

I threw my hands up in the air.  “What bird is that?” I yelled.

It was so frustrating to have witnessed something with such amazing potential and to have no proof of it, to have no way of identifying it, to have no way of sharing its beauty with others.

How frustrating it must have been for Mary to see the risen Jesus and have no proof of it when she returned to tell the others.  Imagine her excitement and her joy.  Imagine how desperately she needed to share that joy with others only to be mistaken for another hysterical mourner. 

We have an inherent need to share things with others, to share our joys and our grief, to share things that are beautiful and things that make us tremble. 

Yesterday I took a picture of all the people taking pictures of the swans on Murrell.  In the time that I had spent with the swans and the people who had gathered there, I realized that the joy was not just in seeing these beautiful cygnets, but in sharing that joy with the people who were standing next to me, in coming home and posting those pictures online so that others from far away could share that joy as well.

This morning, I couldn’t wait to get home from church.  I spent my time at Hope this morning following around a pair of hawks who seemed to be building a nest. 

Yesterday I shared with you the joy I felt in seeing a hawk I had never seen before.

Today I got to watch two hawks build a nest.

The orange bird in the woods is still elusive, but this morning I had my camera to capture the hawk in her nest.