Dharma Glimpse by Dayamay Dunsby
As I sat in the garden at work this morning, getting some November sunshine and some fresh air, a redbreasted robin fluttered down into the bush in front of me. It could obviously see me and chirped boldly in my direction, as if asking me a question. Head tilted slightly to one side, tail bobbing up and down. It then made a tentative leap from its branch down to me, as I crouched down in order to see it better and maybe get a photo. It ventured close enough for me to have touched it, skipping a few careful steps, and then darted off into the far side of the garden.
This felt significant, partly because it left me with a warm feeling and a sense of awe at the diversity and complexity of life. I knew that the robin had felt my presence and recognised it as important in some way – just as I had its.
Before the Robin appeared I had been gazing in wonder at the near-naked branches of the winter trees, contemplating the meaning of their cyclical stripping down and regenerating.
Is it indicative or symbolic in some way? Maybe Gaia showing us that we can’t hold on any more than we can prevent the new from interpenetrating the old? Or just transformation, expressed for the sake of beauty and resonance?
I might usually conclude these musings with a summary of my own particular interpretation; but somehow, it feels important this time to just let a bird be a bird and a tree be a tree.
Namo Amida Bu.
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