Looking back on my first few journals, I read my descriptions of brown shriveled leaves and frost that coated the grass around my mandala. I pictured myself hiking down creek road in a hat and gloves to brace the air that hadn’t yet received a breath of spring. Today, the air was warm and welcomed me as I felt the sun on my skin, wearing a t-shirt and shorts. The trees were full and bright as the sun shined through their leaves and the water had warmed since I had felt it last.

I was greeted by a goose floating at the top of the waterfall. Over and over, it would let itself drift to the edge of the water, just before the line where the ground dropped off, and then paddle against the current up the river again. While being entertained by the goose’s comedic behavior, I noticed the Great Blue Heron that stood at the bottom of the water fall on the far side from where I stood. I have seen this heron here before, but each time, it has flown away after a few minutes. This time, it stood with a careful focus on the water, eager to catch its lunch. After watching it for about ten minutes, he stabbed at the water with his beak but came up short. He shook out his feathers and moved a couple feet closer to the center of the waterfall where the water was moving quicker. Some fisherman waded their way in to the water beyond the waterfall and cast their lines, unable to break the heron’s focus on the water rushing below it. After a few more minutes, I watched the heron take a quick jab in to the water again, this time with its beak and then with its entire stomach. After a few seconds of what seemed like a violent underwater interaction, the heron lifted itself out of the water with a fish that looked to be about six inches long in its mouth. It swallowed the fish and I watched the heron’s throat expand as the it descended to its stomach. After a congratulatory cheer from me and a middle finger from the fisher who had lost his hook and hadn’t been able to make a catch yet, the heron receded back to its original spot on the edge of the waterfall and stayed perched.

Lao Tzu in Tao Te Ching says, “Grabbing and stuffing, there is no end to it. Sharpen a blade too much and its edge will soon be lost. Fill a house with gold and jade and no one can protect it. Puff yourself with honor and pride and no one can save you from a fall. Complete the task at hand. Be selfless in your actions. This is the way of heaven. This is the way to heaven.” The heron caught its meal at the waterfall today, I made mine in my kitchen, and the fisherman were attempting to find one in White Clay as well. The difference between the heron and humans, however, is that the heron doesn’t take more lunch than it needs. As humans, we have been taught that it is better to have more. It is a sign of power, importance, and wealth. In a society controlled by private ownership and profit, the goal is to have more than the next person, even if more is not required to live a better life. The heron, while wanting to outcompete any other heron for this fish it caught today, still only took just as much as he needed. It has no need to carry extra weight or spend extra time fighting for resources that are beyond its basic needs. It completes the task at hand and moves on. I think that filling the gap between humanity’s grabbing and stuffing and nature’s simple living may decrease the negative impacts that humans have on the earth. “Sharpen a blade too much and its edge will soon be lost,” can be equated to humans on earth in general. Use resources to their extent, and in ways that are unnecessary and exploitative, and there will no resources left in the end.