The creek was low and not its usual bubbly self, yet another sign of drought, as my kids and I sauntered along its bank through the neighborhood woods. One of them spied a hirsute patch of moss on the side of a log and joked about a beard. Another shrieked with excitement as a tiny frog leapt into a maidenhair fern. The rest of us missed the frog, but we admired the aptly named flora.

We turned from the creek into a clearing with a small retention pond. A blue heron crouched like a loaded spring in the shallows. Wham! He extended his neck and speared a small fish, which he then swallowed whole.

Other WRAL Top Stories

There is much to lament in this warming, polluted world. Yet Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer wrote, “Amazement overwrites my fear and makes of the hole in my heart a home.” I hadn’t known that the hole in my heart was the size of a blue heron.

Later that afternoon on my way back to work, I saw a woman picking up litter on the side of the road. As I slowed to wave, she speared a Styrofoam cup with a long-handled pick. Of course, she didn’t eat it, but her deft strike would have made a blue heron proud. I admire her effort to beautify the world, one stab at a time.

What about you? What do you do for the planet? What need or concern do you address? Maybe you advocate for clean water. Perhaps you volunteer with your community garden or plant sunflowers in your own yard. I realize that our efforts, whether as individuals or in community, can seem inadequate, even futile, before the gaping chasm of need. But maybe the holes in our hearts are our greatest asset, for the ache of the void can inspire action.

My 8-year-old daughter had a monarch butterfly-shaped hole in her heart, so we planted milkweed. She came home from our stroll to tend these slender plants. As I watched her bend down and whisper something to the leaves, my heart was full.

Andrew Taylor-Troutman is the author of Little Big Moments, a collection of mini-essays about parenting, and Tigers, Mice & Strawberries: Poems. Both titles are available most anywhere books are sold online. Taylor-Troutman lives in Chapel Hill where he serves as pastor of Chapel in the Pines Presbyterian Church and occasionally stumbles upon the wondrous while in search of his next cup of coffee.