Baby Eastern Cottontail Rabbit (Sylvilagus floridanus)
As the month of July comes to a close, the theme of endings seems to loom large. I found the Twelve-Spotted Skimmer in a parking lot, and still marvel at how perfectly preserved it is (click on the photo for a closer view). My guess is that it had died only hours earlier, having come as far as it could from a nearby marsh. The fact that it remains beautiful in death is interesting. The Transcendentalists referred to the thin veil between life and death, and in the case of this dragonfly, I find that to be an apt description.
The wild baby Cottontail died in my hands, albeit peacefully. Since its life had only just begun (wild cottontails have a life expectancy of less than two years) this death struck me as tragic. Though I was happy to have saved its sibling, I dearly regretted the loss of this baby (click on the photo for a closer view).
In thinking about what living means, I am certain of this: It is one thing to live and another to be truly alive. We can only be truly alive if we are pursuing our passions and living with intention and authenticity, oil spills and double dip recessions aside. This is our time. Our time is now.
I like the way the playwright Arthur Miller put it when he wrote:
"The word "now" is like a bomb through the window, and it ticks."