I've long been fascinated by the singular sensation of watching groups of purple martins cavorting together in the sky overhead. There's something so heartwarming and mind-expanding about watching those freewheeling acrobats of the sky defy gravity with such speed, grace and beauty.
Shortly after buying our first home in 1992, Zet and I installed a cluster of gourd-shaped martin houses in our front yard, and quickly came to enjoy sitting on our porch swing, witnessing the comings and goings of the half-dozen nesting pairs. Each year, they took up residence in early spring, where they hatched their broods, and soared through the neighborhood until their late summer migration took them back to South America.
LOOKING ON
We reluctantly left that little colony behind when we sold our home in 2001, but were delighted to find that our new neighborhood on the Southside already had several martin houses located close to our property, so we could continue to enjoy watching a nesting colony every spring.
But for the past three summers in a row, we've been particularly gifted because a large portion of the San Juan Acequia Trail (built through our neighborhood as part of the San Antonio Mission Reach in 2013) has magically become a pre-migratory roosting ground for thousands of purple martins. Starting in late June, at about half hour before sunset, huge flocks of these whirling, swirling magicians of the air arrive in wave after wave, streaming in from all directions. Once assembled, they put on a truly mind-boggling display of mass coordination as thousands of them zoom up, down and all around, seemingly at random, without ever bumping into each other, before settling down to roost in massive numbers along the treetops and utility wires lining the creek. What a sight!
MOVING ON
And then, one night, a few weeks from now, they'll all be gone, having somehow reacted to some unknown signal, triggering their annual mass migration back to South America for the winter. Although biologists have done extensive research into the mechanics and logistics of migratory behaviors, the fact is that much of this process remains mysterious to the trained professionals and casual observers, alike.
What seems clear is that there is something innate to the species that enables them to fly, mingle and migrate in the unique ways they do. They are obeying some deep-seated mandate that lies at the core of being purple martins.
Observing their astounding display again today at sunset, I can't help but reflect on what it is we humans are born to do as a species. What is our purpose?
LOOKING AGAIN
Based on the headlines from today's newscasts, once again it's easy to fall into the trap of thinking that we were born to debase, debate and dominate others and our surroundings. But as I gaze up at this magnificent sunset, watching the intricate web of life being woven by thousands of wings soaring simultaneously in this stunning 3-D display above, every cell and fiber of my body, mind and spirit is filled with love. I feel with total clarity that this is what we are here to do: to bear witness to the miracle of life through our uniquely human capacity to love whole-heartedly and choose consciously. Not as a theological construct, not as a poetic metaphor or a lofty ideal, but as the ground of our being human. And, just as this awareness comes slipping through my mind, the first cool breeze of the evening moves through the trees, whispering "Yes...Yes...Yes..."
With gratitude and wonder,
Rudi
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