seeing nature from two sides...

Today, I retrieved a nest from a bush that was part of 'zealous' shaping and pruning on my part a few weeks ago. It was beautifully crafted: awaiting the laying of eggs, cleverly cradled in the honeysuckle bush that would be producing berries to sustain little ones before they fledged. A perfect avian nursery...I had mortally disturbed.

At the time I buzzed-cut the bushes (but not with any electric hedger -- I like the real blades) in our side yard, I had a worthy mission: to coax them to fatten up and fill in and become one with the chain link fence, i.e., totally obscure it from view. My heart got stuck in my throat when I saw what I had exposed. Deprived of branches and leaves above, losing protection from sun and predator's view, the nest's future usefulness was - in a few 'chop chops' - obliterated.

I brought it inside and set it on the kitchen window ledge. The super clean bottom of the nest bowl confirmed that it was not last year's left over, but intended for fresh, new life this year. At eye level, over the sink, I admired its perfection...but still felt so sad over the deprived future. Then...an earwig crawled out of it and I quickly put him in the disposal.

Earlier, we had pulled up a sprung mole trap from the front yard. We've been invaded, inundated and overtaken by these creatures. Caught in the trap's blades was a perfectly formed mole with cute little toes. Cruelly - in its view - was life brought to an end. We had to work to release it, and somehow that seemed fair. I found myself wishing it could have been trapped live and released. Impractical, at best.

I have mixed feelings about my interactions with nature. I get really upset when anything is harmed...and, more and more, I do mean anything. A few days ago, I saw a teeny spider running across our carpet. I whispered 'sorry' before flattening it. When we first moved in here, a house centipede attracted Lucy's attention one evening. She ended up being stung in her mouth as she played with it. I was frightened -- had never seen one before. After I finished it off, I went to google 'ugly midwestern huge insect' and found out who/what I was living with. Come to find out, they like to stay to themselves, mostly out of sight, close to the walls. AND, they eat all the insects you don't want to have in your house...roaches 'n' stuff.. Okay. So I gave them a lease...I guess on Life. I felt proud of being able to ignore them, but the reality is this: If I see one 'loose', I worry about Lucy getting hurt. Or at least that's what I tell myself after killing it. And I do wordlessly apologize, every time. Recently, when I saw a baby one in a bathtub, I verbally patted it on the back and left it alone. A few days later, it was dead. The tub was too slippery to escape. How ironic.

I am at the same time a sympathizer and a murderer.

So...with an increasing sense of my intruding footprint on the environment comes guilt (even as I discard the moldy broccoli that was forgotten at the back of my vegetable bin, or wish my solution to keeping garbage smelling 'good' would be something better for the environment than sealing shrimp shells in the ziplocked extra thick plastic bag they were sold in...a bag that will be degrading for eons before those easily biodegradable shells see the light of day), but also the awareness of the inevitability of good and evil mixing it up in this life. Are we all a sea in a Garden of Eden salad?

As I said before...I'm ready for the peaceable kingdom.