It is amusing to watch the various bursts and explosions of certain types of wildlife as their numbers peak and disperse at various times during the seasons.
In the summer, suddenly these huge ants were everywhere, feverishly scouting, working, and rummaging in every direction, and then just as suddenly they vanished. There were a proliferation of garter snakes in the garden, and during the day they could be seen just everywhere, sunning themselves. The gnats would come and go in swirling clouds.
Migratory birds would suddenly descend in droves, making rackets and building nests and collecting worms, and then disappear again. Huge banana slugs could be seen collecting early morning dew, and then the first frosts came and they vanished.
Earwigs could be seen proliferating everywhere, and when one turned on a water spigot outside they would tumble out of it, looking almost sheepish, and then scrambling into the depths of the grass and on to the next adventure.
And suddenly a proliferation of a type of plant occurs on available soil, and then it all blooms and goes to seed, and then blackens and melts away, and the scattered seeds go dormant.
There are of course local species - and more persistent and larger populations like local trees for example - which move on slower wavelengths, though at the proper timescale they too may be seen to be exploding and then melting away.
And then say on a people scale, a sudden profound spiritual insight comes with a developed set of mechanisms, rituals, and symbols to reproduce that insight and spread that insight further along sympathetic subjectivities, individuals say, who have had similar experiences and are similarly receptive. And those insights sublimate into something else - or calcify - and are transformed and then pass away in their original form.
And I can laugh at myself too: my, these thoughts seem deep and big, and wow the work I'm doing seems to be pretty interesting and important. And soon it will all be dust!
