Passing by...

It is a scene oft repeated in recent times ... masses of flowers, candles, photos and messages left at the site of some tragic event.

 Most leaving their tribute never knew or were touched by the deceased during their lifetime.  But somehow tragedy transcends the gulf and we all feel bound together intimately in the face of untimely or unwarranted death.  We briefly realise that we are not alone.. we are not isolated islands in a sea of humanity.

Wrong done to one is a wrong done to us all.  And so we unite to express our solidarity, however little we honour it at other times.

Today I walked past a bench in Sherwood Road just outside the Village Shopping Centre.

 Unoccupied.  But as I passed I noticed a small arrangement of flowers sitting on the edge of the bench with a photo attached.  It was a snap of Tom - a cheery overweight unknown who sat there each fortnight selling the BIG ISSUE.  Most people just walked on past him paying no attention to his lively spiel.  But to the occasional person who stopped to hand over their $7 (or mostly $10 "and keep the change Tom") he had a cheery greeting and loved nothing more than to engage in a minute or two of philosophising on the state of the world.

That lonely bunch of flowers on the empty seat spoke eloquently of the fact that Tom's life had touched someone else's, and that even the least of us are not an island after all.  I went back into Coles and bought a bunch of flowers to keep that lonely tribute company -- and to be a floral prayer for one I too often passed by.

Magpie swooping season

Driving home from Indooroopilly the other day I was confronted by a cyclist peddling vigorously towards me, head down as he tried to avoid an irate magpie dive-bombing him.  It's that time of year, and when I am out walking I always have to keep an eye out for the swooping birds.

It got me thinking.  One has to admire their natural instinct to protect their nests, eggs and chicks from potential harm.  For them life is to be protected from its very beginning.  The nest / home is precious.  The new-laid eggs are the future.  No postman on his shiny red motorcycle is exempt from their fierce protective instincts.

It seems that we humans could learn from our black and white avian friends.  If only we would regard our home/ family as equally sacred, and protect life from its first beginnings.  Then divorce, family violence and abortion would have no place.