The water in Bullfrog Pond is olive green and still. The breeze, ever so slight, is just strong enough to push a few leaves across the surface; small vessels who’s destinations are unknown. As I approach the lichen spotted and weathered picnic table from where I am writing I startle an enormous Great Blue Heron. With two flaps of its prehistoric wings it’s off in a flash of blue to hunt in peace somewhere else. A dinner plate sized dark shape glides slowly by, occasionally popping its periscope-like head above the surface of the water; it’s a Western Pond Turtle. A few unlucky insects land on the surface and are quickly gobbled up. I watch this creature move with stealth and grace until it’s body disappears beneath the green. This pond is so full of life, the beauty here subtle. The key to unlocking some of its mysteries is to stop, observe and breathe; a meditation on what it means to be here right now.

The cacophony of our world today is deafening and unbearable. I’ve come here today to press the “mute” button for a few hours. I’m realizing that in order to survive these insane times, I need to find the quiet spaces within myself and in the world at large. I’m being screamed at from everywhere I turn so it feels really nice to be at this peaceful spot today where the only sounds I hear are the occasional buzz of an insect, the chattering conversation of a pair of Acorn Woodpeckers and the ringing in my ears. Out here there are no screams, only whispers.

The hunter I’m watching now is a Black Phoebe. This elegant little bird swoops down to the surface of the water from it’s perch, catching an insect in mid-air and returning to enjoy it’s snack. I walk down to the bank of the pond and the stillness is broken by a chirp and a splash; my footsteps have startled a bullfrog, its camouflage so complete among the algae and duckweed as to render it invisible. Flame orange and cerulean blue dragonflies perform their impossible acrobatics in the still autumn air,  their vibrant colors are a stark contrast against the muted greens and browns. Tiny black fish occasionally break the surface of the water, each time creating the miracle of a perfectly concentric circle as fleeting as a shooting star.

Life in the latter part of 2020 is at times painful and devastating, full of fear and anger. Humanity lurches along on its self destructive path but thankfully the rhythms of nature continue as they have for millennia here at Bullfrog Pond and at other sacred places in the natural world. Long after the evil and the greedy have passed on, nature will continue to provide us with solace in troubled times.