Heroes Not Zombies

Something which always catches my eye and makes me stop to lean in and look closer is the sparkle of light on water.

Look at these little water droplets on this leaf on the forest floor. They are absolutely like little jewels. Each one lying perfectly on this fallen oak leaf, presented to me as if on a platter. Each one looks like one of those glass paperweights which draw you in so that you can look closely and see if you can see a whole world inside.

How do they form?

I don’t really know. I suspect these particular ones may have come from the rain, but they could have appeared with the morning dew. How does each one make such a beautiful shape, yet every one unique in size and place? How do they form exactly where they form? What is it about the ground, or the leaf, or that part of a leaf, which lets the water molecules coalesce like this, to make these shining beads?

I remember learning about water tension and how water molecules hold together to form these perfect surfaces, but what determines the size? Why are some so much bigger than the others?

The other thing I immediately think of when I look at these images is how it takes the water, the sun, and the forest to create them. I might be drawn to the sparkling droplets on the leaf, but it takes all three of these forces, or presences, to make them. Nothing exists in isolation.

The one closest to you in this photo (I mean the one which is lowest down in the image), hints at a whole world. Click on it and look as closely as you can. There is a forest in there.

No wonder people have long since been intrigued by crystal balls.

But, for me, is the added quality of transience which makes these jewels so beautiful. You can’t pick them up and put them in a bag. You can’t sell them or horde them.

You can only enjoy them exactly where they are in this short but present moment.