On the Edge with a Green June Beetle

Outside my window, on the faux balcony a beetle weaved in and out of the wrought iron railing. And as beetles want to do, bumped into a bar and landed on its back. The screen was jammed, and I knew I couldn’t get to it to turn it over, but then I saw that it was nearing the edge as it rocked itself back and forth trying to turn back over. I watched it get closer and closer to the edge and then it fell.

Did it manage to open its wings before it hit ground?

And then it was buzzing around the balcony again. It came over to my window and bumped into it a couple of times before landing.

Was it hurt? It stayed a long time before it began to move towards the edge in its slow, rocking way. I can’t tell you what its plan is. Soon it crawls over the edge and stays there.

We all, at this moment, sit and wait at the edge. We bumble about our lives, running into obstacles, often of our own making. Sometimes we land on our back, unable to turn over. Sometimes we need a helping hand and sometimes we get lucky and are able to move just enough to tumble over the edge where in midair, we can find our wings and rise.

And after all that, we need to take time to rest and wait before we take off again. In those quiet moments, we can begin to understand where we’ve been and where we’re going. And when we’re ready we’ll take wing again, just like the Green June Beetle on my balcony.