The other day I watched a movie about sailing into Alaska in a little cockpit of a boat where you also sleep. It was fairly quaint at the time, but then I went to sleep in a tiny home. This was my view.
Since sleeping with a roof within arm’s length isn’t natural I started to wonder on what is, and it got me thinking about the prospects of being a bird in a nest up on the side of a mountain, or a naked mole rat down in a tunnel under a dung heap.
Suddenly being alive in this moment of space and time as my human self seemed pretty darn exhilarating. Mostly because it occurred to me.
In a couple of hours I will be up and out of this tiny home, breathing a clean mix of air and looking at birds from all over the world, and contemplating how life extending flight is for each of them.
Then quite unexpectedly I turned my head and this was my view.
There in the distance. In the gaps between the algae was light reflecting on the black glass of the water. Every few minutes the surface tension would change as fish or maybe a turtle sucked up a little insect.
Then suddenly in speculative wonder of what it must be like to be a fish down there grazing , or maybe it was gratitude I’m not the little bug, regardless I fell back asleep.