Sitting on a park bench makes me a witness to earth’s teeming biome. Look as spaces between living trees teems with as much life as that which exists on each tree’s surface, or the life in the park, including the woman and her dog, children and squirrels playing, grass and fruit and flowers all frolicking…
Flying life clouds the air ignored by all but that which flies among it. Smaller life becoming meals for bigger life, while seeds and spores pass borne on winds whose origins begin in earth’s upper atmosphere as it rises with the sun’s heat, then returns to earth as cools in its ascent.
I sit here kissed by that same wind while resting on what remains nevertheless a living thing that once was a tree and now is a park bench. It too composed of countless life forms, as countless as those coursing through and in and out of me.
Life has no bounds anywhere. Everywhere we turn life beats us there. It is both creator and creation, reveling in itself. Taken in its totality, it is All That Is. Just as I am.