Everything is connected, a carabiner story

Molly is under the blankets. The rain is hitting the roof with that round comforting sound. This is one of those charmed moments when life is as grand as it can be.  Isn’t it amazing that we live in a time when everyone is so aware of all the connections in the world?  I feel my preparation for this paradigm shift in understanding came from the song about the knee bone being connected to the thighbone. I didn’t know about Aldo Leopold at that time and his breaking open awareness about ecosystems. And I didn't know about Rachel Carson and her groundbreaking work about DDT and how it works its way through the chain of life.  Aldo Leopold wrote that you have to save all the pieces, because all the pieces are connected.  

It’s raining and less heady thoughts were prevailing until these thoughts took off without any warning.  The Johnny jump-ups and pansies have been bringing young, playful colors to the ground level and the tree line is popping with early blooms bringing the gentle spring colors to nearly every place you can look. Myself and everyone in these parts have been swimming through a sea of pollen. Graffiti artists are using the pollen to leave their autographs and some birds, unaware of the footprints have also been doing the same.  

We are lucky. Life is calm here and everything peaceful. I thought I’d start the day with a gratitude list. It can give your immune system a boost. Another thing to do to be healthy. The day starts with a to do from the self-generating “to dooz” list.  The thought of it this Sunday was too much to carry apparently and was lost as I remembered that I forgot my friend’s birthday. But as I was writing her I realized my great fortune for the simple pleasures of these past few days and hours. The gratitude list came naturally.  Somewhere amidst the writing and realizing I started a soup, made breakfast, had too many cups of tea and got back under the covers to sip the tea and take the time to write my friend.  

Along comes Molly, finding a circuitous route to the bed via my open nightstand drawer.  As she started to fall between the drawer and the bed she reached out with her paws and hooked her nails into my upper arm.  She fell through the narrow space between the bed and the nightstand. My arm became a carabiner.  Although she still fell, apparently I was useful in helping to ease the fall.  I did not hear a thud. The hole in my arm is another connection to Molly and the hydrogen peroxide. She tumbled down with as much grace as a person going over Niagara Falls in a barrel. I still haven’t seen much truth to the business about cat’s landing on their feet. Maybe that takes place on the other side of the world?  All is good and quiet again. My arm stopped bleeding. Molly is back under the covers and I am still grateful for this rainy day.