As the solstice bonfire leapt toward the sky and began to melt the snow in a three-foot ring around the fire, a vole started running around the fire. It surprised us, and i'm sure we surprised it. The fire surprised it. The heat surprised it.
Voles don't hibernate. Come spring, we can see the tracks of their snow tunnels running this way and that in the brown grass.
I suppose the vole's snow tunnel suddenly melted. The vole was suddenly quite warm. People everywhere. Where to go? It finally took shelter in a small pile of kindling.
You've heard me talk about the voles eating my broccoli seedlings--all 36 of them. The voles take quite a toll on the spring garden. At the same time, mother voles are the most prolific of all rodents, having as many as 12 litters (= 100 babies) each year. Destruction and creation. Quite a keynote for these COVID times.
Where do we take shelter from the social change, change, change that surrounds us?
I take refuge in the Buddha.
I take refuge in the Dharma.
I take refuge in the Sangha.
A more enduring shelter than a pile of kindling.
No comments:
Post a Comment