RHYTHMIC CYCLES

Judith Miller

Photo: Ranch cabin

There was a time, and not so long ago, when our lives connected to natural rhythmic cycles. When I was a little girl I spent part of the year at our cabin at the cattle camp where my dad and I would herd cattle.

Photo: Corral

We did not have clocks or watches. We never needed them because my father was constantly aware of the angle of the sun and the length and directions of shadows. Later, when I had a watch I would test his accuracy. I learned great respect for the wisdom of those close to the earth and the sky and for those in touch with the seasons.

Now, we do not have time to stop and capture the magic of organic processes. The honeycomb in one of these bottles follows an age-old blueprint. The honeycomb pattern is ancient. Bees for millennia have repeated this pattern, forming strong wax structures that have grace and beauty, shadows and reflections.

Spring is the time when nature begins to move and flow. The honey flow begins in the beehive. Honey flow depends on the weather, the soil, and the availability of nectar and pollen.

The honey flow swells in the late summer. There is more than enough for the bees.

The honey flow stops in the winter. I wonder if long ago we've had similar patterns of change with the seasons. Our modern culture is a speck on the thread of our existence. I suspect, at the genetic level, that we have an ancient blueprint that modern life has dangerously disrupted.

We may love or hate the shadowboxing of our daily lives, but sooner or later most of us need moments of quiet observance to open our hearts and reveal our connection to a world larger than ourselves. This world larger than ourselves is not geographic. We do not reach it through our fax, CNN, or even the world wide web.

It is a world that has formed us over millennia. Quiet moments make space and time for these age-old connections.

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