Undoubtedly, one of the best environments for glimpsing wildlife here in central Florida is the swamp. On any given day one can observe myriad species of wading birds and reptiles: today I saw a limpkin and an anole; tomorrow I may find a sandhill crane and an alligator. If I visit the swamp with enough frequency, I should be able to view most of its available panoply of flora and fauna. But I have to know where (and when) to look. There are many things in life to which I would agree that simply "showing up" (mindfulness jargon could say "being present") constitutes the majority of the seminal effort. Dollar cost averaging is a way in which people are encouraged to invest because all they have to do is show up (with the money). But if I show up to the swamp in search of an animal who hates humidity, I may be hanging out with the mosquitoes for nothing.
We've all heard the tired aphorism "the early bird gets the worm" so I would like to posit something more eloquent but nonetheless true:
Chance favors the prepared mind
[Louis Pasteur, quoted in a lecture by Jerry Uelsmann (the artist behind those beautiful and strange photographs from the pre-Photoshop era)]
Of all the birds I have seen in my swamp visits, I love the green heron most of all. She blends in easily with the foliage and if you are just randomly walking through, you may miss her. Perched atop a low-hanging branch near water, she is poised and ready for the right moment to strike. Patient and careful, she is subject to the vicissitudes of nature and yet she takes full advantage of her available resources.
Perhaps my feelings are nothing more than a subconscious attempt to assert control over the randomness endemic to life. How very human, the desire to manipulate the environment while rebelling against a stoic Destiny or Order; how often in literature and the arts we see humanity as the liaison between the earth and the gods.
I have not done the empirical research (for something more scientific I highly recommend The Drunkard’s Walk: How Randomness Rules Our Lives by Leonard Mlodinow) but I do concede to both the value of persistence and the tragedy of human foibles. It may not be of statistical significance but I will continue to research stocks before investing and I will look for the green heron near the water's edge. Maybe I will someday find a synergy devoid of both ego and futility.
