Along the way, I reflected, and my thoughts fused with all around me. The sounds, smells, and colors of the moments blended with the stream of my thoughts. Abruptly, I recall that something simple caught my attention.
As I took a familiar path down to the river, I cleared the green brush and wispy tree limbs that now covered the part. I pushed aside one too many tree branches and, much to my surprise, one got away and whipped back grazing my nose. instantly clsoing my eyes I let out Let an “Ow !”
Wiping my teary eyes and massaging the tip of my nose, something came into clear view. There I saw three pristine eggs in a tidy nest, gripping the wispiest switch of a gnarly, gigantic oak.
It was in my face, so I had to appreciate its presence.
This moment stood still, but ignited thoughts I buried years ago. Thoughts of my younger self.
The eggs held the colors that swell in the waters of a tropical island. Perfectly placed, they were a stark contrast to my day. They rested together but bounded with miniature life within. Its history was well written. In a way, nature charted their future. Still, their past and their impending future meant nothing if their present went unguarded.
What was meaningful was that very moment?
On the surface, nothing was truly remarkable or noteworthy about their existence or my stumbling upon them. In my past, however, I overlooked much of what hovered in front of me, and I glossed over what peered directly into my eyes. Like many of us, I changed my course when convenient. I wanted to look beyond the instant to forsake the day.
This, however, was not one of those times.
It was one moment captured on the film of my being.
Ensnared, it sat and rooted itself at the crux of my essence. This snip of time rushed with riches. Words could not represent this moment with justice.
Then, a memory came to mind. Years earlier someone introduced wordless moments, akin to this one. In doing so, he showed me so much more.
Why I returned to this particular path was a mystery to me.
I hadn’t been this way in years—decades perhaps. Maybe I found myself here because I had unfinished business weighing on my mind. Or was it because something was buried deep within me that I couldn’t seem to unearth? Perhaps, neither. Maybe I came in part, to honor my journey…or maybe his…our maybe ours.
Twenty-five years ago I walked this path when I was young and while moving toward my well thought out goal I unwittingly struck another path. This one was narrower and full of stones and roots that kept me focused on each step. But it was real. I now had to pay attention. I focused on the moment.
Yes, I took a detour, but what I found was more than I ever dreamed of at the time—much more.
Thinking of those days, I was young and “all knowing”. I did not want any more than what lay in clear vision, but I am now grateful I learned as my senses became replete.
What I thought at the time was absolute was not. What I thought was corrupt was good. I overlooked what astonishes me now. I was not ready for what was a metamorphosis in my life. But what I was not ready for was to conceive new ways.
Where I had been, in a way, and where I wanted to go, did not matter. Growth happened, as always, in my present. The journey was always in the now. I could not be told this, although some tried. Sometimes I asked questions of others, and I heard them, but did not listen. Placing a terrible burden on them, I so desperately wanted direction.
In time, I found what lay beyond the day, any day, only becomes smaller as my past became enormous. The present remained the only real time.
The past was only a trace of who I was to become. Now my past was a taste of bitter and sweet. Without one, however, I could not savor the other.
Why three tiny bird eggs made an indelible imprint on my mind earlier that day, I may never know. An illusion, perhaps, of simplicity, but the reality of life’s complexities rattled my senses. But the change, the transformation, and the need I had for so much more than what was simply before me pulsated in my mind.
Was my life as fragile as those eggs? Lives change without warning. What really mattered? Those capsules of life swarmed with energy and delicately clung to a tree. This interlude was merely momentary. My life’s experiences and thoughts swirled aimlessly in me but, simultaneously, cleaved to my soul. The occasion of my life, as well, is but momentary.
As I walked further down the path, I mulled over my life. I thought of that year of my younger self and resolved that there was something remarkable to everything, even the transitory life affixed to the wispiest vein of nature.
I originally wrote this in 1994 when I was working on my novel, Cutting of Harp Strings. I decided not to include it, but years later I was reminded of this passage. After rereading it and making a few edits, I thought it told its own story. I wanted to share it.
E.G. Kardos
If you liked this post, you may like my other posts in my categories, I Seek Therefore and I Write Therefore I Am
About E.G. Kardos
I am a fiction writer and the author of five books. My writing draws inspiration from the beauty surrounding us all—both in nature and in each other. Spirituality, friendship, love, and our connection to the universe inspire me to write. Here’s more about me and my books.
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