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In the course of my standard exercise run I stop on the bridge across the Arroyo between the fly casting pond and the archery range. I pause there for a combination of physical and spiritual practice. By then in the run muscles and tendons have gained sufficient warmth to undergo a good hard stretch. As with many folks I need to give primary attention to stretching my Achilles tendons. I face downstream while I stretch one leg and give thanks to God for all that has gone on, gone by, flowed through my life - water under the bridge. Then I move to face upstream and while stretching the other leg offer a prayer of hope for all that is yet to come, yet to fall and flow through this point. In warmer weather I keep my balance by holding on to the topmost steel pipe that bounds the bridge
on either side. Since colder air has blown in I have taken to grasping the center-most concrete column. Concrete absorbs more energy during the day and stays just a little warmer than steel.
As I went to put my arms around the column this morning I saw, perched, motionless on the top of the column, a fuzzy, yellow and black bee. Instinctively I pulled back. Should I skip thanksgiving prayer this morning? Choose another column? Just stretch both legs upstream? I know these questions have no real significance whatsoever. They just held some power in that moment as I felt the pressure to complete a ritual observance in a ‘kosher’ manner. I finally decided just to check on the bee. In the children’s message a couple of weeks ago I mentioned that we can get someone’s attention with our breath, by blowing on them. So I blew on the bee. I saw no reaction. This guy had either left the warmth of the hive too early this morning or not gotten back to it last night. I suppose he choose the concrete for the same reason I did . . . relatively it had more warmth than the surroundings.
I decided we could share the space. I couldn’t wrap my arms around the column in the ususal way, being careful to give the bee the right side, but could come over the top and around the left to keep upright while I stretched the tendons and said my prayer. In that moment I realized I had just received the message for the Clarion article you hold in your hands at this moment. Sometimes the very characteristics that move us to make places sacred, attract threatening, cold, homeless characters. Can we share space with them? Can we pray in their presence? Can we pray as I do for that bee that the warmth of the sun resurrects them so they fly home and make honey?
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