and I could see for miles, miles, miles

In my suburban empire it easy to feel like king, I flip a switch and I have light, I press a button and I can change the climate.  Food comes out of box.  The cliche of modern convenience and its depersonalizing effect.

In addition to Brij and family visits, my summer has also been filled with reading John Muir's biography and listening to Bon Iver's new album.

This past week we took the family to the buffalo range and were surrounded by 50-100 head of buffalo tumbling down a hill.  A stream of frothy, wooly, pulsating bison parting around our tiny 4runner.  The vehicle shook as they poured around us and you could hear their grunting and their bellowing and smell the cud on their breath.  One bull in particular decided to stand us off and started inching its ways square to the center of our bumper.  That's around when Rea rolled the window up.  One look at the large males and you know if they wanted they could flip your SUV and roll it with a flick of their horns. 

And the song 'Holocene' keeps playing in my head "Saying nothing thats enough for me, and at once I knew I was not magnificent, hulled far from the highway aisle and I could see for miles, miles, miles"

As much as I believe that God gave us the animals to shepherd them, I think he also made sure that we weren't his only children.  I know its not for everyone, but I'm glad that Taj won't be a fortunate only son.  I'm glad that God didn't make man a spoiled only son either.  We may be special in all of creation, but we are not alone.  Muir never stopped to be amazed, fascinated and humbled by creation.

Reading Muir, seeing Taj adjust to sharing our love with his brother, and being swarmed by bison are all God's good gifts for keeping me appropriately small.