The sun rises every morning. I do not rise every morning, but the variation is due not to my activity, but to my inaction. Now, to put the matter in a popular phrase, it might be true that the sun rises regularly because he never gets tired of rising. His routine might be due, not to a lifelessness, but to a rush of life.
The thing I mean can be seen, for instance, in children, when they find some game or joke that they specially enjoy. A child kicks his legs rhythmically through excess, not absence, of life. Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, “Do it again”; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun, and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon.
It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we. (paragraph breaks added)
Source: Orthodoxy, GK Chesterton
After visiting the Galapagos so long ago, I made an effort to emulate the blue-footed booby’s mating dance. The only thing it stimulated Joan to was helpless laughter. Oh, yeah, I got a sore back.
Jim T
Jim T – That comes perilously close to TMI. As for the specifics of the (failed) dance, I assume you remembered to pick up a small twig in your mouth, show it to Joan, and then casually toss it away. That can make all the difference, or so I hear.
How dare you invade his territory! Great photo.
Judith – Thanks! I swear they have this startled/stupid look all the time, independent of events. An odd way to go through life.
He/she? Reminds me of Big Bird with a bleach job, which might account for the startled look.
Alison – I don’t know the he/she-ness. I think I knew which was which at the time (lead dancer was male, egg sitter was female – I think) but now I don’t remember which booby-ish look went with which booby.