Beings Other Than Humans

Of lightning, caterpillars, onions, hyacinths, & song birds

A couple of nights ago I was awakened from a deep sleep by a very loud clap of thunder and blinding lightning. I was literally in mid-jump and was clamping my teeth together rather violently when I became conscious. It’s a wonder I didn’t chip a tooth. It all happened in a nano-second but it was incredible the effect it produced in me. I lay in bed afterward thinking about people who have actually been struck and survived. Do they remember the second they were hit? Did their bodies react, grimace, contort out of their control? That’s happened to me a few times in my life and it’s a vary bizarre feeling. I’ve felt unsettled since the lightning, especially when I think about it. The unleashing of a power that great is a wondrous thing and a scary thing. Like, not comprehending the vastness of the cosmos scary. This was the second time I was in close proximity to a lightning strike. Now I’m feeling superstitious about a third. Eek.

“People are mostly layers of violence and tenderness wrapped like bulbs, and it is difficult to say what makes them onions or hyacinths.”
― Eudora Welty, Delta Wedding

I’ve never read Delta Wedding which is probably a blasphemy since I grew up in Mississippi. But I came across this quote recently and it strikes me as true a statement as I’ve ever read except I think onions can become hyacinths and hyacinths can become onions. I think there’s a thin veil between onion and hyacinth in all of us, waiting to be ripped.

This is one of six tiny Monarch caterpillars that was on a milkweed seed pod one day this week. I’m kinda in awe. I planted milkweed seeds in little pots in March of 2021 and nothing happened for weeks. Nothing. I was beginning to feel defeated when one early summer day a little green popped up. I nursed the little plants through a very wet summer, making sure they didn’t drown or rot. Milkweed must be tough because they grew steadily despite the tough double whammy of rain and heat. It was late fall when they bloomed. I should have downloaded a photo. Oh well. Anyway, here we are 1 3/4 years later and I have my first caterpillars. I hope one will create a chrysalis where I can watch in real time. I hope I have Monarchs flying rings around my head next summer.

Sadly, Christine McVie died this week. Fleetwood Mac holds so many memories for me. It doesn’t seem possible that she’s gone. Here’s a beautiful rendition of Christine singing “Songbird” - a sweet song to say goodnight.