Spring has definitely sprung in these parts — the black flies are back, along with less fearsome flying insects and all manner of funny-looking bugs. And birds! A hummingbird has been dining out on our flowers on the deck today. . . . Sigh . . . It is all so good. I was thinking of what a miracle it all is, every single little life — OK, I don’t like black flies, either; they bite. But, hey, they are part of the ecosystem. Anyway, it all reminded me of a post I did in my Turning the Page blog on March 26, 2013. I thought I would rerun it here for those who didn’t see it. . . .

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The Ladybug on Mars

The return of spring is checkout time for the winter squatters in the eaves and roof of my home, among them myriad ladybugs. Many of them are unclear on direction, and end up finding their way into my bedroom, which is on the top floor of the house. It has a cathedral ceiling, with floor-to-ceiling windows, and the ladybugs tend to walk high up on the glass, no doubt seeing the great outdoors beyond and trying to liberate themselves.

I do try to liberate them sometimes, and catch and release as many as possible. I scoop them up with the edge of a sheet of paper into a glass, open a window and drop them out, often humming a bar or two of Born Free as I do so. Sadly, though, I can’t rescue them all, and I find their little corpses on the floor.

Yes, it saddens me that they got trapped inside my home and died as a result. But I’m sure many people would think I am being overly sensitive, yes? I mean, they’re just ladybugs, right? Who really cares about the ladybugs that die in my bedroom — other than me?

I thought about how different it might be if, say, the world woke up one morning to headlines shouting: “Life found on Mars! Ladybug spotted by Martian rover!”

You could just imagine the fuss that would be made over the ladybug — the only one found there — as the Martian rover followed its every move, beaming back pictures to billions of ladybug fans and groupies. No doubt, the ladybug would be given a name by the tabloids, big business would be capitalizing on it with ladybug T-shirts and mugs, documentaries would be made, ABC News Nightline would devote itself exclusively to the cute little critter . . . and yadda yadda yadda. You get the picture, right? Miss Ladybug would be the talk of the world, loved and adored by all.

Imagine then, if the citizens of Planet Earth awoke one morning to find Miss Ladybug on Mars had keeled over and died, the Martian rover beaming back images of her last moments as she lay on her back and wiggled her little legs for the last time. It would be headline news: “Ladybug on Mars dies!” “Millions mourn the death of ladybug!” “State funerals planned around the world for ladybug!”

Indeed, there would be much sadness, and there would be tears shed by so many of us. We would realize just how precious that little life was and perhaps be reminded just how precious all life is, great and small . . .

Smiles . . .

Jillian

We are all of one common cosmic or spiritual origin, and what affects one affects all. – G. de Purucker

Photo credit: Mars (NASA)