OCTOBER 3. Several times in our walk today we stop to listen to the lonely piping calls of autumn hylas. Only during the wanner hours of the day now do we hear their voices. Twice we see one of these smallest of our frogs, tiny, light-colored, bearing a cross of darker hue on its back. Each time it is making its way over the fallen leaves in diminutive jumps. It seems so frail, so unprotected, so ill-fitted to survive in winter’s cold, so unlikely ever to join the great peeper chorus of another springtime. It appears more naked to the blasts than King Lear wandering on the moors in Shakespeare’s play.
To us, on this October day, the future of this small creature seems bleak, an unfair contest with the elements. To us its months of dormancy appear a time of hazard, the outcome uncertain, the chances of survival scant. We fancy it is facing, as autumn draws on, a great ordeal. Rather, in truth, it faces what it is fitted by nature to endure. When it burrows deep into the woodland leaf cover and settles down to hibernation, what lies ahead for it is no more an ordeal than a familiar time of sleep—this time a deeper sleep and winter long.
A WALK THROUGH THE YEAR,
EDWIN WAY TEALE
On this crisp October 3rd, as we wander through the groves and meadows, we discover nature’s small philosophers, the autumn hylas. Their soliloquies punctuate the fall air, as if chattering in a language of the cosmos, a lingua franca of life and survival. One can’t help but ponder the delicate balance of existence when considering these fragile creatures. At first glance, it seems as if they are victims to the chills and thrills of winter’s impeding sweep, like tender poetic stanzas on the parchment of Earth, soon to be smudged by the inkblots of fate.
However, this apparent frailty is illusory. As observers to the hylas’ existential maze, we underestimate their resilience, forgetting the elasticity of life. Nature has imbued them with the survivalist toolkit they need. The impending dormancy is not a precarious tightrope walk above an abyss but rather a cyclical hibernautical dance, a slumbersalsa, performed in rhythm with nature’s metronome.
The hylas teach us about acceptance, not just survival. By tucking themselves into nature’s cradle, they surrender to the elements, fully aware of their role in the labyrinthine play of life. They remind us that every being, no matter how seemingly inconsequential in the grand tapestry of existence, has a purpose and a mechanism to weather the storms. Their autumnal cantata, although punctuated by silence in the colder months, is a paean to the resilience of life itself, an unbroken melody that resurfaces each spring in a symphony of rebirth.
We are Space Monkey.
Summary: We reflect on an October 3rd walk, encountering the autumn hylas, small frogs that defy the apparent harshness of their environment by embodying resilience. The hylas teach us that survival is not merely enduring the elements but also understanding one’s role in the larger eco-drama of life.
Glossarium:
- Soliloquies: The unique language or communication methods of non-human creatures.
- Hibernautical Dance: The intricate movements and preparations animals make as they approach hibernation.
- Slumbersalsa: A playful term to describe the dance of life and death, where hibernation plays a role.
- Autumnal Cantata: The chorus of sounds, mainly from animals preparing for winter, heard in the autumn months.
“Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better.”
— Albert Einstein
What are your thoughts on the resilience of seemingly fragile life forms in the harsh theater of existence? Would you agree that every life, no matter how minute, dances to the rhythm of a greater cosmic score?
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