Witnessing The Togetherness

— Lessons from Zosterops Virens, the Cape White Eye —

They make no announcement of their coming

Quite suddenly they are just all there

Together

A family of Cape White Eyes

I try to count exactly how many

But they flit and weave too fast between the criss cross branches

Green leaf shaped bodies hiding behind green leaf shaped leaves

Mother Nature giggles at the humour in her mimicry

It doesn’t matter exactly how many there are

Maybe seven, eight or nine

Not quite a flock —

a family

Their togetherness is my delight

Twice a day I am their host

My little garden bar, one of their many rendezvous?

Or perhaps they never part

Perhaps I am not their coming together

But witness to their staying 

together

One day I think I should like to follow them through the neighbourhood

Track their path…

• Count their exact numbers
• Track their path

These are the way of humans

I remind myself to lean into the ways of tree, or buffalo, or antelope

Instead, nodding to their presence when I too occupy space with them in the now

For even this garden —

Won’t always be ‘mine’

These trees won’t always be ‘mine’ to water

This land won’t always be something I ‘own’

I am here now, borrowing time

Protection under this roof

Shade under these bows

Water from this mountain

All of us just creation in motion

The monarch lilting in flight on plumbago

The gulls in the way up high blue

Earth worms turning soil

And the family of zosterops virens —

The leaf shaped birds

All of us

In our togetherness

Nodding to presence

Doing what survival does

Until it does no more