Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be another living thing.
Like a tree where the birds nest, and the squirrels use for their climbing post and source of food. An umbrella protecting them from the rain, as it watches the world around it and holds the big job of keeping us supplied with breathable air.
Or perhaps a pumpkin, that in this season, will have its guts and seeds dug out and become a face, ready to scare or delight on All Hallow’s eve.
What would it be like to be an apple or pear or peach, plucked from the only home it’s ever known and thrown into a box with many like it? Then riding on a train for miles and miles only to end up being snatched up by my fingers in the grocery store and then chomped on by my kids’ little teeth.
Or what about a flowering annual that knows beauty for just a few short months and then in the winter freezes, only to be dug up and replaced by a new one in the Spring?
What of the “love bugs” that fly around me at the soccer field, attached to each other like glue, that later find their demise on my windshield? How long did they live? What is their purpose in this great big world?
And I even think about what it would be like to be a baby, born just minutes ago. What if we could remember that? What would it be like to be taking in the earthly air for the very first time, feeding on your mother’s bosom and finally looking into the face of the voice you heard for so many months?
Sometimes I think about these things.