Sharon's blog: Leaps of faith

I watched my back yard squirrels this morning; they were playing tag, two of them, running in circles around the maple tree and on to the cottonwood that sits about 30 feet away. It is a gorgeous day, somewhere around 80 degrees with the kind of sunlight that can be found only in September in Kentucky.  Low and golden and glistening off anything yellow.

Suddenly they chased each other up the cottonwood, a huge old tree that has been around more years than I have known. It's been dropping its leaves all summer in this heat and drought and even now after a bit of rain, its leaves still whisper and rustle with their dryness in the breeze.

Sipping my cooling coffee, I could hear the whispers.

The smallest squirrel raced to the near end of a limb high above me, but his larger buddy was right behind him. The little guy stopped just at the last joint of the swaying limb and looked straight ahead at the maple limb that was maybe 10 feet away.  Without a blink and before I could grab my camera, he was flying through the air, he grabbed the maple limb, clung for dear life, until it stopped drooping and bouncing. How he held on is anybody's guess.  I thought I'd soon find a little limp body in my back yard.

But he held on to that limb and as soon as it stilled, he pulled himself up and ran to the safety of the top of the maple far away from his larger friend. I watched his buddy. He didn't have the courage to leap the 10 foot distance.  He simply sat down on the limb in the cottonwood and fell asleep.  I lost track of the little one high up in the maple but I suppose he's napping after his great leap of faith.

That's the way of nature. The lone morning glory blooms finally after months of dry dormancy, knowing for sure that one day would be the perfect one for blooming. And the butterflies, they waited too, knowing for sure the sedum would finally bloom. Same for the dandelion that I never saw after June, they waited, knowing their day would come again. And the yellow rose that is always reluctant to bloom for me, well, here it is after a long hot dry summer, glowing with the dandelion like a beacon in the September sun. They took the same leap of faith, just like the little squirrel, they waited till the time was just right and they believed that time would come.

Taking chances, little leaps of faith; those of us who are so attuned to nature do it without thought, knowing our day will come when everything will be just right.  It isn't all about gardening though, it's just that gardeners seem to be the ones who are more willing to apply that leap of faith to their every day lives.  We take that leap, knowing that eventually, just like our critters, just like our plants, we'll be just fine.

So we raise a child, we take a trip, we venture down a road less traveled. We plant a seed, hoping that we nurtured the soil well enough so that the seed grows, maybe even living forever. It's all about taking a leap of faith.

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