Sunday, September 5, 2010

I feel you water

Water is Life.

Perhaps a phrase heard one too many times. Maybe too obvious to ring true anymore.
But, possibly one that holds so much beauty in its grasp, that it deserves reconsideration. Hear me out.

I sit on a black, metal bench, a few feet away from the Girard Park pond. Unconscious glances suddenly revealed to me the magnetic force of water. Literally, water has long been linked to the moon, the latter exercising a strong magnetic pull which creates the tide. Mi'kmaq legends explain the tides as a massive whale in the water, which I'll gladly accept as well.

The pond is encircled by people. People of all ages. Families. Couples (one Mexican couple making out in the gazebo. Right in front of me).

In today's world, people...families rarely get together to just Be. But here, families are just strolling, enjoying each other's company. They are being.

Dogs frolick. The ducks, travelling in groups like troubadours, quacking for food, or like vagabonds, swim in the water, feeding, cleaning themselves.

Children happily throw them bread, a lifesource. Two girls, two sweet twins, their faces chocolate-colored, their dressed of a soft yellow which ties in the back in a big ol' bow, hair piled up high, throw bread, believing this is a first for the ducks. Excitement. Compassion.
There is a unifying force here at play.

We are all connected here, in 'l'Acadie Tropicale'. 1755 tore families apart. The sea quickly then became a dreadful enemy, a symbol of despair, of the ripping apart. But it then became the way of life, and also for many similar cases for the Acadians exiled to Southern Louisiana.

how many thousands of organisms life in the water before my naked eyes? (Boggles the mind. It should, because the inter-connectedness of those creatures are as instrumental to our equilibrium as any other element.)

A teenage girl feeds McDonald's fries to the ducks. I suppose everything deserves a treat now and then. And high cholesterol.

Three ducks speed past me, wings flapping the top layers of the pond ferociously-happily. The pre-speedboats. Environmentally-friendly.

We may think we control our World, nature. Our egos tell us we are the Kings of this 21st Century concrete-jungle.

But the ducks, the pond, show us otherwise. As the trees surrounding it (and in it), drinking Mother Nature's gift, let us reflect on the delicate drop. The meaning of the water. The clouds that circle all around us all. Nothing really seperates us. Look at the ducks next time, as a child does.
Remind yourself how they need water to Be.
And we do too.

1 comment:

Jules said...

Keep writing! This post was a joy to read. xo